It Wouldn't Be So Bad
by inukag2000
Summary: This is my interpretation of how I think The Jungle Movie would happen. Hope you guys enjoy it! There's romance, humor, adventure, drama! Please don't hesitate to review at all! I love them! *Plus it's in multiple perspectives too! I don't own Hey Arnold! Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon do!
1. Sid

It was so tempting. Looking from behind his fellow classmate and friend, it was almost too good to be true. Sure, they weren't the closest of friends, but the voice of reason did deserve some credit. Plus, he had been pretty down a couple of days ago when everyone had gone to Dino Land. He didn't seem like himself either. Maybe he was just not feeling well or something.

Either way, today was his day. And Sid wouldn't let Arnold forget it. All he had in mind was something small, but he was not dense. _"He did save my life, helped me with my fear of germs and with Big Gino. Oh and the time I thought Stinky was a vampire. Well this should cheer up my good buddy and pal." _Paper bag in hand, Sid walked in his prized white beetle boots into the cafeteria. Heading for Arnold's table, he could see Gerald as well having a conversation with Arnold. His hand unconsciously gripped the bag tighter, trying to keep it steady._ "I can't have my gift fall over. Otherwise it will be ruined. And Arnold is going to get it whether or not he likes it."_

The room was getting warmer as he was more set on putting his plan into action. His mind kept racing with similar thoughts as he came to realize that he was at the table.

"So what do you say we"- Gerald's voice stopped as the two turned their attention to Sid. He was coughing lightly into his elbow as he came around and took a seat closer to Arnold. _"I can't lose my nerve now. It's for a good cause." _His palms got a little sweaty as he shakily placed his package on the table. Nervousness crept up on him still, because now was the time to give what Arnold deserved.

"Hey Arnold," sounding unsure as his classmate faced him. He started to unravel the crinkled bag at the rim, making it crunch. The blond was confused by Sid's tone, but nonetheless smiled at him. He ate a bite out of his pastrami sandwich before responding. "Hi Sid, what's going on?" That look on Arnold's face was reassuring. _"It's Arnold. What do I have to worry about?"_

"Well, I have something I think you should have. Before you ask, all I can say is that I think you are a good friend," and inhaling a big breath of air, "and this is my way of saying thanks." He slid the remaining torn package to Arnold. Sid stared on.

He looked from the bag to Sid, unsure of what to make of his friend. He had a suspicion of why Sid was doing this. But the only way he could confirm it was if he opened the package. But it was Arnold, so he was very modest.

"Are you sure, Sid? I mean you don't have to say thanks."

"I'm sure, Arnold, take it."

Gerald, who had been silently observing his friends' conversation with confusion written all over his face, decided to cut in. He pushed the bag closer to his best friend as he leaned his elbows on the table. "Come on, man. Just take it. If Sid wants you to have it, accept the gift." He liked how Arnold was nice and helpful, but his modesty when it came to accepting things was overbearing every now and then.

Looking at Gerald, Arnold nodded his head. Gripping the paper bag with his left hand, he tore it in one rip. And by that point a lot of their other classmates started to come around to see what was going on when they heard the deaf defying sound. Namely these students were Stinky, Harold, Lila, Rhonda, and Nadine, and Eugene. Curiosity filled their fifth grade minds as they almost shoved each other around the table and forgetting their own lunches.

And to say the least, the boy who was the saint of the class, the one everyone went to for guidance, was shocked by what he saw sitting on the table in front of him.

A blue frosted cupcake with a "HB Arnold!" written in dark blue letters.

Arnold blinked, and then blinked again. Sid had his hands folded on the table loosely. "How is this possible?" he asked Sid, raising his voice, "How did you know today is my birthday?"

"Well you see good buddy that is a long story."

"Sid." Arnold pressed on.

The stringy haired friend raised his arms, hitting Harold in the nose. "Ouch! You hit my nosey!" Stinky shook his head. "You'll be fine Harold", he patted his back, "But I didn't know it was your birthday Arnold."

Everyone else was saying similar things as Arnold rubbed his face, eyes closed, and shook his head. "Well, I thought no one did." Turning to Sid, his arm leaned on the top of his chair. "Why did you do this? And I'll repeat, HOW did you know that today is my birthday?" His tone was calm, but stern. It also was raised a bit.

Lowering his hands, Sid set them down on the table again. Solemnly looking at the blond, he replied. "Well, I know that I and the gang were kind of disappointed that you didn't come with us to Dino Land the other day." Arnold's frowned a little, remembering why he didn't go. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that."

Sid put a hand on his shoulder. Luckily there were enough chairs at the table to fit the other kids as they looked on. "It's ok. But it didn't sound like you to miss out on going with us. Anyway, you know how I sit by the calendar in the class room right? I mean, since Mr. Simmons just made us switch seats?"

His friend only nodded, still not meeting his gaze. Arnold never really talked about the anniversary that much. He only told Gerald a part of the story.

"Well, I wasn't really listening to that lecture on measurements during math yesterday. So when I was looking at the wall, I saw that Mr. Simmons recorded our birthdays so that we all could have "special" days." Everyone snickered at the implication, "And your name was on the 7th. That, uh, is today. So I thought that making you a treat would cheer you up."

Arnold had to smile at his friend's generosity. He looked to Sid, taking the cupcake.

"Thanks Sid. That means a lot."

The boy removed his hand from Arnold's. "Well yeah, I was glad to do it. After all, you have done a lot for me. Remember the time when I thought Stinky was a vampire?" They shared a laugh at that. Thoughts of Sid sneaking in the attic with a rubber sword and realizing that no vampire had a reflection were very amusing.

After that, everyone had at least something to say to Arnold about how he helped them.

"Yeah, Arnold. If it weren't for you, I would have never have been able to win the vegetable contest."

"Or the time you were the only one to help me lose all of that weight!"

"You also helped me with finishing up the play Eugene! Eugene!"

"And it was ever so nice of you to take me to my first Cheese Festival."

"You also helped Rhonda and I become friends again."

"Not to mention you were kind enough to let me live in that boarding house of yours when my family went broke."

All of this continuous complimenting made Arnold blush. _"Had I really done all of that stuff?"_

He glanced at everyone at the table with genuine smiles on their faces.

"Thanks you guys. All of you are great friends." This was exactly what Arnold needed at the moment, even if he didn't want to admit it.

Meanwhile, Phoebe and Helga walked into the room and seeing the crowd of kids around Arnold and Gerald's table had them naturally curious. They overheard some of the compliments they were giving Arnold. They made their way over. Of course this made Helga happy for him, but it looked like she was indifferent about it. Phoebe, on the other hand, cut in as well.

"Well, Arnold, you had to know that I appreciate that you helped me come to my senses when I realized that faking my leg injury to get Helga to do things for me was wrong."

This shocked the students as they all turned to Helga. She just shrugged it off, for a second of not caring about the others' opinions. "Well, I guess I had it coming Pheebs."Everyone else continued to look at her. "What are you morons looking at?"

Her best friend, observing what they all had wondered asked what was on their mind. "Well, didn't Arnold help you at all Helga?"

The girl sweat dropped and panicked on the inside.

"_Phoebe, why would you do that? Are you trying to get me to admit that I don't entirely hate Arnold? Even though I love him, I'm just not ready Pheebs." _

"Oh man, this has got to be good. Helga hates him." Harold whispered to Stinky next to him. The country boy didn't say a word, but he knew what his friend said was somehow a lie. He knew that Helga had a thing for Arnold, especially since she had him pretend to be her boyfriend last year. _"I may fail spelling tests, but I'm not clueless. I don't understand why she won't tell him. He's a nice guy, so I'm sure he wouldn't want to hurt her."_

"Well, Helga, have I helped you?" Arnold questioned smugly. Maybe it was the compliments getting to him. But to hear his bully say something nice about him – this he had to hear.

Crossing her arms, the blond girl turned away from him and the others. She still had to have her ego maintained after all. "Well, I suppose I can say you at least didn't get me lost when I got amnesia."

Arnold chuckled at the memory of her acting out of it. But he also frowned at knowing he caused it. "Sorry about that Helga."

She started walking off, not wanting him to see her smiling at his concern. Phoebe quickly followed her. "Quit your apologies Football Head! Geez, it's your birthday. You can't just sit around feeling sorry for yourself. Come on Pheebs, we got better things to do."

After the girls left, everyone congratulated Arnold on his 10th birthday before heading back to their respective lunches. Only he, Gerald, and Sid remained at the table. Finally taking a bite out of his dessert, he looked to his friends side by side him.

"Thank you Sid. I really needed it to be honest. But I'll be fine. The cupcake is good."

The boy waved his hand off. "Like I said, I was happy to do it. I may not be the best chef around, but when it comes it cakes and sweets, well let's just say I got a gift," he started to get up, "I guess I better head over to Harold and Stinky before they start planning a prank on me for not making them cupcakes too. See you later Arnold!"

That left the original duo of Arnold and Gerald. It suddenly occurred to him that Gerald had been quiet throughout just the entire time their friends, and Helga in "tall hair boy's" eyes, were there.

Looking at him, it was obvious that his friend wanted to have the last say. Arnold smiled at the thought.

"And hey man, you and I have been best buds for years! There have been so many things that you have helped me with – teaching me how to ride a bike, the chocolate turtles, letting me stay over at your house. I've named it you've done it. But," lowering his voice so that no one could hear, "you know you can talk to me about your parents. I know it bothers you. And didn't you say to me earlier this morning about finding something of your dad's?"

Sighing, Arnold was about to respond and tell his story.

But the bell rang for class.


	2. Stinky

"Stinky Peterson, there you are."

He sat in the middle of the room like everyone else. It wasn't like he was invisible or nothing – just sitting there, bored as can be. They all just came in from lunch, which was kind of interesting on a count of they all figured out it was Arnold's birthday today. "_I wonder why he didn't want us to know. And why has he been sad? And why is Mr. Simmons doing role call?"_

Stinky turned his attention to his friend beside him, smiling a little but he wasn't paying attention. It was hard to see what Arnold was looking at. It looked like a picture book of some sort, having words that he couldn't make out from where he was. What was weird about it was that Stinky knew that when Arnold ever read a book, it was always on his desk and not on his lap.

It was brown leather, tattered too. Stinky didn't get it. It was like Arnold was keeping a secret or something.

He shrugged his shoulders. Every fellow has his own secrets to keep. Plus, if his friend really wanted to talk about it he would have by now.

"Arnold Shortman, Arnold, Arnold!"

Arnold looked up to the teacher, quietly slamming his book shut.

"Huh, what is it Mr. Simmons?"

The class laughed, including Stinky, at the shock that was on his face. However, he stopped sooner than just about everyone else because of Gerald. He was diagonal to Arnold's left in the front row. But he wasn't at least chuckling like the rest of them. The dark skinned boy looked at his best friend with a frown. What was going on?

One of the laughs that suddenly stood out from the others was Helga's on Stinky's right side. Although that girl was confusing, he knew Helga liked-liked Arnold. He had of course realized it when he pretended to be her boyfriend in exchange for Mr. Nutty candy bars. Every time she pulled him away to do this, Arnold was the only person who was always there. But he kept it a secret because he understood what made him special – his pride.

And Helga had a lot of it. So he could relate to her on that level.

Her actions were that of laughter, but he got the feeling that it was forced. Her blue eyes were shut tight as she held her arms around her stomach, but he could have sworn he saw a sad tear go down her cheek. Did she know what was wrong with Arnold?

When the amusement settled down, Mr. Simmons shook his head. "I just called your name for roll call."

Arnold rubbed the back of his head, feeling the awkwardness. "Um, I'm sorry about that. I guess I zoned off."

"That is quite alright Arnold."

Standing up from his chair, our teacher walked to the front of his desk. There was a large stack of papers. _"Probably another spelling test that I didn't do well on again."_ Stinky sighed and stared up at the ceiling waiting for the inevitable disappointment.

Their teacher clapped his hands together in surprise. "Now I know you all are wondering why I did a second role call today."

Brainy lifted his hand, wheezing out "Uhh, why?" Following that a few more of the students groaned. Mr. Simmons didn't seem fazed by this behavior. He learned to deal with it last year as their fourth grade teacher. And though it was a challenge at times, he loved that he was promoted to the fifth grade and have the same class.

"Now everyone, before we have our English class, we have a special guest speaker here to discuss a contest that all of you must submit an entry to. Think of it as our assignment for the next week. We will also be working on them as well during class."

Again more groans and sighs.

But when that door opened, dark almond shaped eyes met the students with a comfortable gaze. Long locks of brown hair going down her back and tan skin, she certainly was a beautiful speaker even though it was obvious she was in her early forties. Even Stinky was kind of surprised by her appearance. Wearing a soft green blouse with black dress pants, it was also clear she meant business.

Setting down a small briefcase, her Spanish accent was somewhat apparent as she spoke. "Hello class, I'm Ms. Azmina Soto. Just as Mr. Simmons told you, I am here to tell you about a writing contest that you are all asked to enter."

Helga raised her hand. Smirking at the woman, she asked, "So, if we are going to do this contest, what do we get out of it?"

"Helga…"

"What? I was just asking a question. Is that so wrong?" She pouted her lip mockingly. Again, some low grade chuckles were heard. _"Boy that Helga can be funny," _Stinky thought, "_maybe that was one reason why I liked her before. But I'm sure happy that's over. No offense to her of course._"

Ms. Soto raised her right hand and shook her head. "That's quite alright, Mr. Simmons. She did have a question." Looking at the rest of the class, she smiled. "The prize as you mentioned Helga is that whoever wins has the choice of going to any country that they want to travel to on this list. The best part is that this will be a class trip. So whoever writes the best essay will decide for the class."

She handed the list to the students, each one passing it back. As Arnold handed one flyer to Phoebe behind him, the book he was holding fell to the floor. It exuded a noise so piercing that everyone turned to Arnold.

This time Arnold wasn't staring off into nothing. All he did was pick up the book off the floor and set it on his desk upside down. But he made it his turn to say something.

"What is it that we are to write exactly?" He seemed desperate, almost praying that the topic was one he could write about. _"Wow, Arnold must love to travel,"_ thought Stinky, _"or else he wouldn't be acting so funny."_

Ms. Soto walked toward the blonde child's desk, setting her hand on top of the list. "Well the topic is your favorite discovery," glancing at each student individually, "You see, because this is an adventurous opportunity you all, should one of you win, will discover so much about another culture. It truly is an amazing experience. As a judge myself, I cannot wait to read the tales all of you will tell. And don't be embarrassed by what you write. As long as you express what happened and how it affected you honestly I believe one of you will win."

With that they thanked their guest for coming and she left the classroom and English class began. One last time, Stinky looked to his left. Arnold was fidgeting slightly as he stared at the paper that he picked up. Until that point, the country "called city" boy had not once looked at the list himself. Picking it up, it read:

**Contest Countries of Choice**

You may only choose one should your essay win.

China

Egypt

England

France

Japan

Mexico

San Lorenzo

South Africa

Spain

Switzerland

If you win, you will be notified one week prior to the time when you make your decision on which country you and your class will visit.

"_Well I'll be, no wonder Arnold must be excited. There is plenty to choose from in this dang list!" _


	3. Gerald

Man, sitting up in the front row was a disaster.

Not only did he have to listen to Mr. Simmon's lecture on British poetry again, probably for the millionth time, but also the fact that he at least couldn't turn around to lay a hand on his best friend's shoulder. Gerald wanted to be there for him; however he had to at least stay awake in class long enough so that he could talk to Arnold later.

"_Arnold really wants to win the essay contest too, which is weird. He may not have said it, but boy did he sound anxious." _Arnold loved to travel – from going fishing to the country's capital with his grandpa, him, and his dad for Veteran's Day. _"Not to mention he had to spend a whole week with Helga Pataki at the beach." _The thought made him shiver because there was NO WAY he wanted to know what that girl looked like in a bathing suit. Even if Arnold told him that things were ok in the end, it didn't help him when he was flipping through channels only to come to Babe Watch. He could remember the phone call he made to him in the middle of the night about a month after the break.

_It was around 7:30 on Tuesday night and Arnold had been asleep for around a half hour. It never took him long to fall asleep because he always loved to dream the imaginary. They were interesting – some of them were complete fantasy while others were a little more realistic. Currently, he was dreaming of him and Gerald having a better day of Hooky since they had a miserable day AND missed the school carnival day. _

_Then, the phone ran over by his red couch. And it wouldn't stop. _

_Groaning himself awake, he tried to put the pillow over his head, but it didn't help at all. A knock could be heard outside his bedroom door. "Hey Shortman, your friend Gerald is on the phone."_

_Removing the pillow, but still with his face down in the mattress, he muffled, "I'll get it. Thanks." After footsteps could be heard going down the stairs. Sitting up with a yawn, he stretched his way over to the red sofa, picking up the phone._

"_Hey Gerald, what's up?" _

_Unfortunately the voice boomed into Arnold's ear drum. "You never said anything about Babe Watch man! And you kissed Helga Pataki again? For a long time too? Man that is sick! I know I know you wouldn't say that it was bad. But come on, that is like the second time the two of you were sharing spit! It's gross, but it is the truth my brother. Why didn't you mention that so I could have avoided that channel at all costs?" _

_All of his loud shouting became too much for the boy. "GERALD! Calm down!" Rubbing his temple with his right hand and he leaned back on the couch. "Well I am still trying to get used to the fact that my second kiss from a girl was not only Helga again, but also that it was on national television! I don't think that is a topic I would like to talk about. So I'm sorry."_

_Gerald seemed to get the message. "Right, sorry about the shouting. I mean I just saw it on television – for a full three minutes. Man, why did Pataki kiss you for so long? That was longer than the play I'm sure of it."_

_And as strange as it sounded to Arnold, his best friend had a point. Why did she kiss him for so long?_

"_I don't know. I remember asking her after the play was over. She said that it would make the acting more real."_

"_Well that actually does make sense to me Arnold. Remember the time when we almost missed her play? She went ballistic! I swear if she wasn't the bully of P.S. 118 then she would be Eugene's best friend and not Phoebe's."_

_Arnold chuckled. "Still trying to bring up Phoebe?"And Gerald was caught._

"_What? No man. That was just because Helga and she are friends. Why does Helga have any friends for that matter?"_

_The blonde's eyes narrowed, somehow feeling offended by that. "Everyone deserves a friend Gerald, even Helga. Ok? You know the reason why I said that things got better in the end was that Helga was trying to help me by telling me that Summer was using me."_

"_Ok Arnold I believe you. It's just that Helga always seems to hate you. Why would she do that if she hates you?"_

_Then the line went dead. "Arnold? Hey man, are you there?"_

For some reason the two of them never spoke of it again. Not that they really wanted to either. _"At least no one has seen the show except for me. Otherwise Arnold wouldn't be here and Helga would have attacked the whole class by now."_

After that school had let out, all of the students rushing to the door ways. Arnold still wasn't saying anything. He just got out of his desk and walked out the door. Well, not out the door exactly. Curly closed it when he was laughing at the possibility of winning Rhonda's affection again, not caring that there were others in the room. So Gerald's friend ended up running into a wall. He only stumbled back slightly. And his best friend was there to put his hand on the shoulder, coming around to face him straight on with his books in his hand. "Hey Arnold, you ok?"

The blonde, typically known for nodding his head to say he was fine, instead shook his head.

As they opened the door, Arnold replied, "Not really Gerald." They continued their way down the hall a lot slower than the other students. The darker boy rubbed his left arm. "Well would it help if we played basketball or go get ice cream? That always helps."

"Not really Gerald."

They made it to the door and down the steps, glaring at the harsh sunlight despite it being a slightly chiller day than normal. However it wasn't bad enough that they needed jackets or anything. Gerald, being annoyed at his friend's repeated answer also recognized that he needed serious talking to. Looking at the boy beside him, he had to stop and look down as Arnold was tying his shoe. It was normal behavior though, so he thought his buddy would open up.

"Arnold, let's just sit here for a minute. There is something I need to talk to you about."

The boy turned his way to seeing Gerald on the steps. And he was giving him his concerned/serious face.

After following suit and sitting on the cold stone, "What is it?" he asked.

The darker boy stared at his best friend, pulling his knees up to rest his arms on. "You know you can trust me right? With anything you know."

Arnold's face furrowed for a second. "Yeah, of course I do."

"Well, I don't want to upset you my brother, but I got to know why you are so down lately today. I mean I understand about it being a couple days after your parents left," he approached his words with caution so that Arnold would feel more comfortable, "But everyone said Happy Birthday to you! And you got a cupcake no less. But how come you never told us when your birthday was, let alone want to celebrate it all of these years?"

When he really got the chance, Gerald got the feeling that this had something to do with his friend's parents. "And, I know it's hard so if you don't want to talk about it I completely understand. But you were going to tell me about that thing that you found of your dad's too. And I was also wondering why you are so excited about some dumb essay contest."

"It isn't a dumb essay contest Gerald!" Arnold shouted. Seeing his friend scoot further away, he realized that he freaked him out. Groaning, he racked his hand into his hair. "Sorry about that. It's just; give me a second to get it out."

Turning to his books, he pulled out the brown one that he had dropped in class. And he turned it to the first page. As he read the page, he kept glancing at Arnold. He had a sad smile on his face as he began to tell Gerald the story.

"You see, when you guys went to Dino Land a couple days ago, you know I stayed home because of the anniversary of the day I last saw my parents."

"Go on my brother." He nodded with a grin to cheer him on. It seemed to help because Arnold began to calm down. _"I trust Gerald. He understands."_He continued to flip through the pages of his father's writing and various drawings.

"Well for some reason, I got fed up with the belief that they might actually come back someday. I mean, it has been seven years." His fists got tighter, but after taking a deep breath, he continued on. "Anyway, I started to take all of the stuff that reminded me of my parents and was planning on taking it into the attic because I didn't want to see them anymore, including my hat."

Luckily his friend put a hand on his shoulder. "But when I put the box on a shelf, my dad's journal fell down. When I realized what it was, I took my hat back and ran downstairs with Grandpa very excited. I wanted him to read it. Of course there were moments as we were reading that we were interrupted by food and other things going on. But to see something that my dad had a connection to and I could see it was unbelievable."

"That is cool. I'm happy for you man."

"Thanks Gerald. Anyway, I learned that my parents met in San Lorenzo. My dad was apparently an anthropologist and my mom was a doctor and plant specialist."

"You mean a botanist?" Arnold raised an eyebrow.

"What? So I know my vocabulary. Anyway, go on." He shooed his hand at him.

"Yeah, well of course they fell in love there, but they also helped out this civilization called the Green Eyed People. They are like today's Aztecs or Mayans or something. But they trusted my parents after my parents fell down a waterfall. The Green Eyes saved them. After that, they trusted only my parents to help them when crisis hit. Well after that they had gotten married. But shortly after, I guess it was during their honeymoon, the Green Eyes came down with the sleeping sickness that killed people. It took awhile gathering the ingredients in the jungle and finding the exact formula that would help. But they managed to do it." He smiled at the good that his parents did to help others.

"Of course – that's where you get the helpfulness trait from huh?"Gerald joked lightly. Arnold chuckled as he flipped to the page with the volcano drawing.

"Probably Gerald. Anyhow of course I came along shortly after that. But what was cool was that apparently when I was born I silenced all of nature during a volcanic eruption!"

His friend became wild eyed. "Wow, let me see that for a second. I promise I won't ruin it." The blonde handed the book over as Gerald read each page. Looking at his dad's drawings, Arnold felt a sense of pride for once knowing he had something to show off and be proud of.

"That is crazy man. I guess it just means that you were definitely meant to do amazing things like your parents! You really sound like each of them."

"Thanks Gerald," he took his book back, "can I continue?"

"Of course! This may be a future legend to tell. That is if you'll let me or you can tell it if you want."

He smiled slightly at the thought. "I'll think about it. I am still getting used to knowing all of this."

"Alright, I get it. Go on my brother."

"As new parents, they had a challenge with settling down and raising me. But they loved it I guess. One night though, they decided to move back here and in the boarding house because I crawled my way out of the hut and almost got attacked by a snake."

Gerald laughed at that. "Well if you hadn't we would never become friends huh?" They did their "secret" handshake. The storyteller joined in. "Yeah you're right."

When their hands fell, their legs stretched out over the remaining stairs, the tips of their feet touching the side walk. Arnold looked up at the clouds that were slowly starting to cover the sun. At least it made it easier to see without the glares of passing cars or the sun rays hitting him in the eyes.

He also continued to talk, dreamily as his tone seemed to get sadder as his story was finishing.

"When all of us came here to Hillwood, we lived a pretty good life in the boarding house. Mom and Dad were always with me, we went around the city often, and I had fun with my grandparents," he removed his hat for a moment staring at it as he twirled it in his hands, "And when I had my first birthday, my dad got me this hat in the park. They probably saw all of us as babies, even you Gerald. But when they turned their attention back at me, I was gone again. Apparently I somehow got to the top of the slide and slid down into a puddle of mud."

Once again he got a laugh out of his friend. "Man, were you always a little baby dare devil?"

Arnold chuckled as he put his hat back on. "Yeah, I guess I was. But it wasn't until before I turned two that my parents' friend Eduardo came into town. He told them about the sleeping sickness killing the Green Eyes again. My parents said that they couldn't leave me, but Eduardo told them that it would be the last time they had to leave."

His friend remained silent. _"This must have been when Arnold last saw them. I wish there was something I could do."_

"They still didn't want to leave but," he leaned over as one tear fell down his cheek. Gerald rubbed his pal's back a bit, knowing that it still bothered him. "But they knew that they owed the Green Eyes because they saved us time and time again – what with the waterfall and the volcano. So they left on October 5th. I barely remember saying goodbye to them, not knowing that I'd never see them again."

He stood up all of a sudden, setting down the journal, and paced, going on in an outburst of hurt emotion. And his best friend let him - partly because he didn't know what to say and partly because Arnold needed to vent. He always was helping others with their biggest issues that he couldn't even ask for help with his biggest issue – because there was nothing he or their classmates could do about it. All of them would feel bad that he had to suffer, but not understanding that he had to suffer on his own with only his grandparents must have been very hard. _"Wow, he really is a strong friend and a good one at that too."_

"That is why I don't want to celebrate my birthday every year Gerald. It reminds me of them too much and thinking that they could have been here with me, well it just makes me sad. I'm not mad at them because they were only trying to help and wanted to come back home and be with me. But it just hurts. Maybe helping others is a part of what I get from my parents. I love helping you guys out. I also guess that it is my way of dealing with it because I don't want to see you guys hurt at all, especially not as bad as I have been."

He took a deep breath and stopped in front of the steps. "And when Ms. Soto came in to tell us about this writing contest, I wasn't too interested in it at first."

"But," Gerald prodded on.

"Then I saw the list. I was in the middle of reading the journal when I glanced at the countries we could go to. One of them was San Lorenzo, Gerald – the place they flew to help the Green Eyes when they disappeared."

His best friend stood up as well, handing the book back to Arnold. "So you wanted to win the essay contest in the hopes of finding your parents?"

He smiled at that. "Normally I would say that is way too dangerous and just settle for finding typical answers from the locals. If it weren't for the map I found that my dad drew. It was probably the map that they were going to use when they left." He flipped to the uncovered page, no doubt that there was the map.

"If I win that contest, then I would have the opportunity to really find them. That is if they are, well you know."

Gerald frowned. "Don't think like that man. If they are that adventurous, strong willed, and love you that much, than I'm sure that there is a big possibility that they could be alive. Now I don't want to say for certain since I am just as clueless as you are, but you got to look on the bright side like you always do. Remember?"

Shutting the book, the two boys made their way back to their houses. Arnold gave another handshake to Gerald. "Thanks for listening to me Gerald."

He smiled at his best friend. "Hey it was no problem at all. You know I've always got your back."

As they left, they never once took notice in all that time they were sitting on those steps that someone was behind the garbage can nearby, hearing Arnold's story.


	4. Phoebe

"Stupid glasses. Where are they?"

The cold pavement kept scratching her knees as she felt almost blind without them. Her black hair was tickling her face. _"I have to get to Helga. She needs to know why Arnold's been weird. She's already worried sick about him." _Though her best friend had some idea of why her true love was acting odd, she only wanted the reassurance that he would be fine. _"I almost kind of wish that she didn't have to suddenly see Dr. Bliss today because I know it probably won't go well."_

As Helga's sessions with Dr. Bliss went on from fourth grade, she started to slowly open up with Phoebe. It was still a work in progress, but their friendship was improving. However, since her psychologist had to go out of town, she had informed Principal Wartz to tell Helga and her parents that she would have to come home later that day. Normally her best friend would ask to reschedule, but it wasn't a normal day for Helga and Phoebe was more than willing to help.

_The Asian American girl had waited outside of Principal Wartz's office waiting for the blonde to step back out. Apparently he had called her in for "a brief moment", but it seemed to last the remainder of lunch period. The girls hadn't eaten since Helga was too flustered about what happened in the cafeteria. It wasn't that she hated complimenting Arnold; however it was hard on her with other people around. _

_Phoebe could relate. Sure she wasn't mean to Gerald to cover her own emotions, but there were brief moments that they shared that she wished that she could compliment him alone. She was calmer about it and treated it as a friendly gesture more than a little romantic one. _

_So she spent the remainder of lunch attempting to cool down Helga about the situation. They were about five minutes down the hall from Mr. Simmon's room. And then a middle aged, slightly bald man with spectacles leaned outside a door they were passing. Lowering his glasses, he asked "Ms. Pataki, can you please see me in my office. It's only for a couple of minutes."_

_The two students turned to him, and then pink turned to blue in confusion._

_Whispering to her friend, "Helga, did you do anything that might have angered him?"_

_She shrugged, "I don't think so. All I did was shot spitballs at the Football Head, but that's nothing new."_

_Phoebe's mouth dropped. "You did that on his birthday? Why?"_

_The blonde's unibrow creased with tension and snapped a little with a small growl. Rubbing her forehead with her right hand and balancing her books with the other, her eyes shut. "Well I wouldn't have done that on his birthday Pheebs. Crimeny, I mean I knew his birthday was on the seventh"- _

"_Ms. Pataki."_

"_Hold it Principal Wartz; I'll be in a minute," he stared at her suspiciously, "I will. Just let me tell Phoebe something."Looking back at her best friend Helga replied, "But I didn't know which month. I'll be back in a minute. Do you mind waiting out here?"_

_The black haired girl nodded with a smile. "Sure Helga. And I'm sorry about accusing you of doing such things. I know you wouldn't do it had you known what day it was."As the other student walked down to the office, she grinned as well. "Don't sweat it Pheebs. It's ok. I'll be out soon."_

_But soon couldn't come fast enough. She was sitting there waiting for about ten minutes before the sound of a door clicking itself open and closed. Emerged was a distressed young kid who obviously did not have a good meeting with the principal. Her friend stood up clutching her books tightly around her chest. Helga looked at Phoebe, muttering about something involving going into the janitor's closet._

"_But Helga we have class soon."_

_Once she noticed how the blonde was staring at her with what looked like guilt, her blue eyes were desperate."Please Phoebe, this really is important." Before she could respond, Helga had started pulling her hand gently trying to convince her to go._

"_Sure."_

_Fortunately, the closet was only three doors down the hallway and in the direction of their classroom. So if they were running late, it wouldn't take them long to get back. Grasping the door knob, it felt like Phoebe was shoved in as her friend blocked the entrance with a filled mop bucket and a Wet Sign. She pulled the string while Helga did this so they could actually see each other._

_Helga was pacing in circles in the small room as Phoebe sat on her "desk", since Helga sometimes referred it to as her office. She didn't say anything because knowing the whole story first was the key in order to help her think of possible solutions._

"_You see, here's the thing. You know how I'm worried about ice cream, I mean…Arnold. Yeah of course you do. You always knew. Anyway, you also know that I don't mean to spy on him. Typically it is just to get my stuff like my locket or that parrot. I was actually going to spy on him," Phoebe gave her a look, "BUT it wasn't for the fun. I think I know why Arnold is so down today. And I just wanted to be sure that he will be okay. That's all."_

"_Well what's the problem with that. I think it is very considerate of you that you care so much. But may I ask what your reasoning for his apparent sadness is?" She had to admit she was curious. Arnold was always a positive classmate and open to others. Seeing him just as defensive as Helga about his life was not normal. _

_The girl turned to the other on the desk. "Because when we all left him and tall hair boy at the boarding house, I stayed behind for a few minutes. I wanted to know what was wrong, so I overheard them behind a car and he said it was the anniversary of the day he last saw his parents."_

_To say the least Phoebe was shocked. "Oh my, no wonder why he doesn't want to celebrate. It reminds him that they are not there, especially since his birthday is only two days after."_

_Helga nodded. Then she continued pacing for a minute. "But I can't spy on him. It has to be today because he may try to cover it up more tomorrow that he is sad," the blonde stopped and put her hands on Phoebe's shoulders looking straight into her eyes, "Wartz told me that Dr. Bliss wanted to see me after school today because she was going out of town tomorrow. So we had to call Miriam, and you know how long that takes." The Asian American girl nodded. "So I can't follow him home. And since I'm trying to be a better friend,"-_

_The lunch bell rang and footsteps were running rampant outside, mostly the students trying to get to class._

"_I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing it for me. And please, if you think there is anything I can do to help without the Football Head knowing about it. Think of it as like," she put a finger to her mouth in thought, "the time I helped find that boarder's daughter. Remember?" Once again Phoebe nodded._

_She didn't even need to think about it. Her best friend's love for Arnold was clearer than ever. "Of course Helga, it's no problem." _

That was what led her to hiding behind the garbage can. She didn't realize even that she would have all the answers that Helga needed before either of the boys left the school. Arnold's story was sad. But it gave Phoebe new hope that her friend would figure out a plan. To her, those two had something in common all right – their will and determination to get their tasks done. It might not always be school related like she was into, but it represented the goals each of them had.

It was easier to hide because she was significantly smaller than Helga, so she could use a pencil and paper over her book to write down notes – about everything. If she was going to help as well as the girl who loved Arnold, then they both had to know every detail. Anything might be a clue.

Unfortunately, a squirrel wandered behind her as the boys were leaving and ran into the trash can because there were a few left over peanuts. It surprised the "replacement spy" and she fell over while her glasses fell to the ground.

So she spent a few minutes trying to find it. It was difficult though with all of the twigs and other random pieces of litter along with the cement rubbing her joints and fingers harshly.

Fortunately, and somewhat disturbing, someone tapped her shoulder. Phoebe screamed in fear, fell on her stomach and crawled away. Unable to see, there was no way she could navigate herself out of this on. Turning on her back, she curled into a ball and lifted her arms up to protect herself.

"Please don't hurt me! Please! Please!"

"Calm down ever so much Phoebe. It's only me."

Recognizing the voice, the girl lowered her arms. "Lila," she tried to look up, "is that you?"

Lila put Phoebe's glasses on. Feeling the frame behind her ears again she smiled. Lifting her up, she stumbled but was able to stand up right after adjusting her view. "Thanks Lila. I'm sorry, I had no idea it was you. What are you doing here?"

The red head smiled too, handing the other girl her possessions. "Well, I forgot my math book. I thought that if I got here before the janitor left I could ever so make it to my locker. What about you? And why were you behind a garbage can?"

Phoebe was surprised. _"Helga didn't give me an excuse to use in case someone asked me about it. Oh boy, this isn't good."_

The sad part was that she was also a horrible liar. Ever since Arnold found out about her fake cast and the whole "little problem" situation last year, her ability to lie became worse and worse.

She stammered. "Well I was...I was just walking by and I tripped over because of my shoe lace. Yeah that's what happened." Hoping it was a believable lie, maybe Lila would just say ok. She really had to talk to Helga after knowing all of this information.

But the country girl shook her head. "I'm pretty sure I ever so sure that isn't what happened. I saw you writing some of those notes before that squirrel scared you. What I don't understand though is why you would sit there of all places."

Backing away, Phoebe retorted, "Um, I was, oh boy." Her head fell with disappointment at herself for failing miserably with something that she promised Helga she would complete. Lila walked up and put a hand on her shoulder again, making the girl lift her gaze. "I'm sorry Phoebe if I'm being ever so rude. It's obviously something personal. But may I ask you one question?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Why are Arnold and Helga's names on it? Are you trying to help them get together? Because if you are that is just ever so sweet," she continued on, "I've been waiting ever so long for that to happen!" Phoebe's eyes went wide. Lila knew about Helga's feelings for Arnold?

"Actually," her head hung over wishing the same, "I'm doing Helga a favor. But how did you find out?"

"About her feelings you mean?" The shorter girl nodded, somewhat grinning sheepishly. But Lila just kept smiling, "Well I already had an idea with how much attention she gave Arnold. She gives more to him than anyone else. But she told me when I got your understudy of Juliet in the play last year. I had to ever so ask if it had to do with him. At first she denied it, but eventually she admitted it and I gave her the role."

"So you've known that long? Well I guess that's why she used my fear of stage fright on me to become stage manager instead. She wanted to kiss Arnold." Phoebe giggled at the thought. Sure she had reason to be mad at Helga. But it would have been way too weird for her to be the one kissing the boy.

"Well I'm ever so certain that she didn't want to upset you Phoebe. It was probably the only way she could ever get a kiss from him." Lila sighed romantically with a tear in her eye. _"That kiss was so sweet, and long." _She laughed at the other girl arched an eye. "Are you ok Lila?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she slowed down a little to breath, "I was just thinking of how long Helga made that kiss last." Phoebe tightened her hold of her books, shivering from a gust of wind. However she didn't mind as she laughed along for a couple seconds in agreement. Once the girls calmed and took time to return to their normal voices, Lila chose to return to the subject.

"Can I still ever so ask why their names on the paper? I promise I won't say anything. I made it when Helga told me to. So I'm sure she won't mind." She rubbed her arms as the wind as well was nipping at her dark haired girl looked to her. She trusted Lila, but Arnold liked her. Ever since, Helga has had it against the country girl. _"Then again, she knows of Helga's feelings. Helga must trust Lila a little bit."_

"But what about Arnold? Doesn't he still like you?"

"Of course, but only as a friend now. After I told him that I wasn't interested after the whole thing with Gerald's sister. You know, how Arnold used her to get to me," she continued, "Anyway, he came to me the next day and said that he fully accepted how I felt and would stop trying. He even gave me Arnie's number as proof."Lila pulled a piece of crumpled paper with some writing and numbers on it. "So ever since, he hasn't done anything. So we are just friends."

Finally! Phoebe and Lila both couldn't stop smiling. Helga finally had a better chance of getting to be with Arnold! She pulled Lila down the road along with her, jumping ever so often. "Phoebe, where are you taking me?" the country girl shouted, "I have to get my math book!"

"You can borrow mine! I already did the homework! And we're going to Helga's house!" the other girl responded. The excitement in her was about to burst. In her eyes this was the second greatest thing ever in her life – the first being Gerald.

"_Even so, Helga will be so excited. If she can figure out a way to help Arnold and he doesn't have feelings for another girl, maybe she will finally become the girl he loves."_

"Why?" Lila was losing breath again and getting stopped suddenly by Phoebe's feet as she turned to Lila. "Because when Helga finds out that she has nothing to worry about with you and Arnold, I can tell you both what I found out when I was doing her the favor I mentioned earlier."

The grin on her face couldn't be removed.


	5. Mr Huynh

"_Don't you know I'm still here for you? So what do you think you're doing? Who do you think you're fooling? This is me you're not talking to. Hey, this is me, you're not talking to."  
_

The Vietnamese man set his guitar down as he finished playing a Travis Randall song. He always loved to sing as well. Sometimes he believed it helped him cope with struggles in his life. Although that was not entirely true anymore. Sure he lived in a rundown room an old boarding house. Sure he only worked at a Mexican food restaurant. Sure he was thousands and thousands of miles away from old village. He smiled as he sat on the couch, picking up a couple of photos left on the table beside him.

The first photo was of his daughter, Mai when she was an infant. It was worn after years of being stuffed in his pockets as he tried to get out of the country. _"She was so beautiful. It always amazes me of how grown up she is now. "_ Short black hair and the brightest eyes he ever saw, he would remember that Christmas day for the rest of his life. Hugging her and holding her, he had never felt so happy in all of his time in America. And it was all thanks to his landlord's grandson. It didn't take him long to figure out that it was Arnold who found her. There was no one else that could be his Secret Santa. So there was no need to remind him. He liked seeing people happy. He only told the story to the boy because it was sort of like his time to vent. Arnold was always a good kid and treated others with respect. That was why he told the story.

Things were difficult without her. No matter what country he was in, Mr. Huynh always missed her. Without his wife, who died from disease after Mai was born; there were two holes in his heart that existed. When his daughter came into that room and he saw her, he saw both of them. _"She really does look like her mother too."_

Setting aside the photograph on his couch, he turned on his dim lamplight to get a better look at the next one. Even though he had been living in the boarding house with everyone for years, the detail was hard to make out with his smudged glasses. _"I guess I should wash them."_ Standing up, he was about to go out to the bathroom in the hall. However, he bumped into a young boy who was running down the hall. It was more of an accidental shove for him into the wall.

Arnold stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Sorry Mr. Huynh!" He looked guilty; face glancing down as he shuffled his feet and hands behind his back. He didn't normally act like this. Unfortunately, there was nothing that the man could think of that could be bothering him or making him so excited. He pushed a hand against the wall to balance himself. "That is alright Arnold," he smiled at him, "Did you have a good day at school?"

Knowing that the adult was fine, the blonde eased. "Yeah, I guess I did. Thanks." The Vietnamese man bowed a little. "You're welcome." Arnold continued down the hallway, pulling on the cord that allowed him to go upstairs to his room. As he shut his door, more as if he slammed it, startling Mr. Huynh._ "That Arnold, what is going on with him?" _His curiosity grew stronger as he went into the bathroom to take care of his glasses.

This was nothing new to him either. He never really told Arnold, but he was always proud of him for a lot of things he did – especially with him, the boy's grandparents and the other boarders. From teaching Oskar how to read to helping find peace between Ernie and Grandma when they fought over the Circle Theatre; from being by his grandfather's side when he thought he was going to die to understanding him when he became a famous country star who wanted a simple life.

Overall his life wasn't simple, even all the time when he was living in the house with at least eight other people, random animals, and a pet pig. But it was the lifestyle that he loved. It wasn't too complicated nor did he have anything to complain that much anymore. Right now everything was just fine.

His hands wet with soap and water as he rinsed out the lenses, it was kind of blurry. Grabbing a small towel over on the side, he dried the glasses off and put them on. Unfortunately, even though he could see, the towel reminded him of the boy – more importantly his mother Stella. It was his baby bath cloth that she had hand made for him. A soft blue fabric, it had Arnold's name stitched in cursive yellow thread. It still had a shine to it and it appeared very clean.

"He must have held onto it." Feeling its padded texture, Mr. Huynh recalled the day that she was finishing her project.

_It had been about three or four months since Miles, Stella, and Arnold all came home from living in San Lorenzo for so long. They were such a happy family. Of course the man felt really happy for them, since he had gotten to know Miles very well when he was still in Hillwood before his anthropology trip. They would have a lot of conversations about different cultures and their jobs. And Stella was a kind woman. She was perfect for his younger friend. Having her in the boarding house, and controlling Miles' sense of overkill activities, made the tension easier._

_The one little guy, Arnold, was the center of attention though being the baby of the family. Wide green eyes, he was definitely their son. They told him and the others about how the reason why they came to realizing that they had to come back home. It was too dangerous for their child and they had to protect him since he seemed to have inherited their love for adventure. Mr. Huynh never told them but he was proud of them for coming there. He understood when he had to give Mai to the soldier all of those years ago. Those two were meant to be good parents._

_Mr. Huynh was coming down the main hallway after a long day at the restaurant. He had just begun to work there and was overwhelmed. Feeling a little sweat coming down his face, he stumbled into the living room and landed on the couch facing the television. He wiped his forehead and closed his eyes, too tired to watch TV. Suddenly, he heard light footsteps in the room and a cold wet washcloth on him. It felt so good and cool, letting out a sigh as he opened his eyes only to see Stella in the chair on the side._

"_Hello Stella. What are you doing in here?" he asked._

_She simply smiled and lifted a small baby bag, pulling out the baby towel that she had been working on for Arnold for about a month. She only did this whenever he was taking a nap, so he thought that they wouldn't hear him crying from being awake any time soon._

"_Oh nothing much," as she worked on finishing the rim, "just put Arnold down for his nap. So I'm just using my time to work on this while I had it. When I was going into the kitchen, I saw that you had being lying down. That's why I put that rag on your head. Is it helping?"_

_Mr. Huynh nodded. "Yes it is. Thank you Stella."_

"_You're welcome," she chuckled, "I assume that you are still adjusting to your new job huh?"_

_Sitting up, he leaned he elbows on his knees for support. He kept wiping the cloth on his face. The water felt so nice. "Yes. It has been very hard. But I am sure that it will get easier."_

_Putting away her materials save for the washcloth, "Well, that will probably happen. It still is taking time for Miles and myself to adjust being parents. But I wouldn't trade it for anything." Her happy face warmed his mood. Stella just had that kind of presence. If she was content there was no tension. _

_She looked somewhat nervous at the same time. "Um, Huynh, I was wondering if you could tell me something. And please be honest with me."_

_Setting the towel aside, he turned to her. "Yes, of course," he glanced at her piece of work, "are you asking me for my opinion on the towel. Because if it is I think it is very good. You did a good job." He encouraged her. And it did really turn out well. The stitches were lined perfectly and her son's name stood out from the bottom in bright yellow. _

_Stella grinned at him. "Thanks. That was what I going to ask. I'm glad you like it," she started to laugh, "but hopefully it won't get ruined when Arnold thinks it is a bath toy." _

_Then he joined her._

If only he knew back then that it wasn't going to become a mess because Arnold saw it more as a blanket than a bath towel, only to keep it after so long since they left, he frowned at the memory. The other day was hard on Stella and Miles' son; everyone knew it in the house. It had been eight years since they went back to San Lorenzo never to return.

Hanging the towel to dry, he thought about Arnold's behavior and how he actually seemed excited for some reason. _"And it is his birthday. He never wants to celebrate his birthday. Maybe I should ask or at least tell him to try and have a good day."_

Stepping out into the hallway again, he straightened his glasses and went up the staircase. He had only been in Arnold's room once before when he and the other boarders were asked to think of ideas to get Grandpa to not sell the boarding house. The steps creaked as he went up. When he made it to the top of the stairs, he knocked on the door.

"Come in!" yelled the boy.

Opening and slowly entering, Arnold seemed to be at his desk writing something. He was writing so fast that it amazed Mr. Huynh that any ten year old could do that. When he closed the door, his younger neighbor turned his chair.

"Mr. Huynh, what brings you up here?" he asked considerately. The man stepped forward, thinking of how his voice sounded so much like both of his parents. There he was blonde hair and all. Only living one decade, and he could see that he had dealt with so much already.

Seeing his red couch, he gestured to it as a way to ask. "Sure go ahead." Laying down his pencil he moved over to sit next to Mr. Huynh. To an outsider, it would have seemed weird that a young American kid and an older Vietnamese man having a talk on a small sofa underneath a sky light. To them it was a friendly conversation.

"Well Arnold, first I would like to say Happy Birthday to you. Being ten years old is a great year." He said enthusiastically. The boy smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks Mr. Huynh. It means a lot. How's your day going? I heard you singing that Travis Randall singing when I came up the stairs."

"Oh that was nothing. Like I told you I do it for fun." Arnold smirked, "Also for the simple things right?"

He chuckled. "Yes, that's also right," then his face grew somewhat serious. "Arnold, there is something that I also want to tell you. Can I use your desk chair so that I can see you better?" The boy nodded.

Pulling the seat over to the couch, Arnold was sitting across from Mr. Huynh feeling a little awkward with the way he was acting. He knew that the other was a good person so he wasn't worried. He gulped. "What do you want to tell me?"

The man took a deep breath and stared at him with kindness and respect – because that is what he deserved even at his young age.

"I want to thank you for helping me in any way possible. You helped find Mai, figure out what I really want in my life and encouraged me, as well as with my boss when you stood up to him when I couldn't," he put his hand on Arnold's left shoulder, "You are a good friend and nephew to me. And I understand what you are going through right now is not easy."

The boy looked down. "How would you know Mr. Huynh?" He didn't sound angry, just sad. It hurt the man to see him that way. He used his finger to lift Arnold's chin to face him, then removed it back to his side.

"Because I know your parents," the boy looked confused so he continued, "and I understand parent and child separation. You and Mai both have suffered this and I don't want you to suffer. But what you two also have in common is that your parents and I left our children because it was too dangerous. And I remember your parents very well. They really loved you Arnold. And if they are out there somewhere I'm sure they still do. You know that towel in the bathroom - the one with your name on it?" He nodded. "Yeah of course. My mom made me that."

Mr. Huynh smiled. "Well first I want to say I'm sorry for using it when I was drying my glasses. It was an accident."

"It's fine. I get it washed every once in a while to keep it clean anyway."

The man coughed into his elbow._ "I probably should have gotten a glass of water. I forgot how dry my throat gets after I sing." _

"Sorry about that. Anyway, I was going to say that I remember when your mother finished that for you. I was lying in the living room exhausted when she came in." Arnold became wide eyed and excited about hearing someone else besides his grandparents talk to him. _"Why didn't I ask the boarders? They know my parents most likely. Maybe there are some memories that I don't know about."_

"Your mother had just put you down to sleep. For about a month, she worked on the cloth after she would do that. She had gotten me a cool washcloth and put it on my head to help since I came home from the restaurant. We had talked about our days, my new job, and you. We shared a few laughs at the idea you would see it more as a bath toy."

Arnold arched an eyebrow, leaning back on his arms and kicking his legs. "But I was told that I used it as a blanket." The man nodded. "Yes, you did. The point is that if you need to talk to someone about this, but you don't feel comfortable talking to your grandparents, you can always come to me."

It felt as if after Mr. Huynh said that, the tension disappeared and Arnold seemed more calm and happy. He stood up and gave the man a small hug. "Thank you Mr. Huynh, I will." He stepped back and went to his desk looking at his corkboard filled with travelling pictures, maps, and even a smaller picture of his parents. "Can I tell you something though? I'll tell Grandpa and Grandma later. But you would probably find out anyway."

Now the man was the one in confusion. He too stood up and walked over behind Arnold. "Yes you can."Arnold sighed as he ran his hands over the paper he was writing earlier. Following his gaze, Mr. Huynh read some words like "parents" and "discovery" and "journal".

"Well, the reason why I ran into you by accident was so that I could work on this paper. And it's for a contest," his voice became quicker as spoke, "If I write about my favorite discovery and submit it, I could win a trip to any country on this list." He handed the list over. "As you see, San Lorenzo is on the list and if I do win, then just maybe I can find more answers. Or better yet find my parents. I'm not expecting to win. But I got to try."

His face lowered as a couple tears spilled onto the table. And all Mr. Huynh could do was to rub the boy's shoulder.

"I'm proud that you will try. Your parents would also be proud. I hope the best comes for you Arnold because you really do deserve it."

Again more tears fell, but it was only because Arnold was happy. Hearing all of the compliments, even the awkward one from Helga and the sentimental one from Mr. Huynh, made his day.

"Thank you Mr. Huynh. I appreciate it."


	6. Lila

Suddenly she felt like going home and wrapping herself in her fuzzy purple robe. It seemed more reasonable than almost tripping at least a dozen times on the cracked sidewalk, especially since it was several blocks from where they were going. The chilly air itself was blowing itself into her face and her eyes were next to shut. Yes, she wanted to help very much. But it was ever so obvious that there was something important going on here beside what she told her classmate._ "I just ever so wish Phoebe would let go of my wrist."_

As they ran, the young Japanese girl held on to Lila's hand tighter; it also seemed that she was dragging her as well. And even though there were goose bumps on her arms and legs, she was sweating. As she panted, "Can't I at least call my dad? I'm ever so sure that he'll get worried!" Her friend's blue frames quickly looked her before continuing on. "You can do that when we get to Helga's house Lila! It's not that much farther I promise!"

This continued on for a few more blocks. The country girl's nose became runny as she was catching an ever so horrible cold. Her legs started hurting and her feet ached without her gym shoes on (she only wore them during her gym class). Lila's braids continued to flap against her face, making it even harder to see as well. _"But Phoebe doesn't seem ever so messed up like I am."_

The girl was running ever so quickly down the streets, almost as if she had done this before. There was not one hair out of place. Her glasses stayed on and she wasn't even wearing gym shoes either! Phoebe was panting though, so it was oh too obvious that she was tired too.

Helga's house was known to be closer to the school than Arnold's. But this was ridiculous!_ "She ever so has to let go!"_ Just as Lila was about to yell out to her friend to free her at last, she ran into the girl's small back as it came to a stop. Her shoulders ached from the bump, but it was ever so lucky that they didn't fall on the ground.

They were both gasping as they leaned over to breathe. The black haired girl turned around to face Lila as she looked at the blue brick home. A charming three story home, a large tree stood out in front besides a few steps that led up to a green door. _"I remember coming here when Olga was my big sis. Oh I hope she is home. Maybe she could help us as well."_ The country girl smiled. "Well, we're here. You ready Lila?" Phoebe gestured to the door. Looking down her Lila nodded.

"Yes, but Phoebe?" The girl raised one of her eyebrows. "Yes Lila?" They were already climbing the stairs as she rang the door bell. "Please, just please don't ever so grab my wrist that tight. I'm sorry but that honestly hurt." She kept rubbing sore red spots where the other's nails dug in. "Oh, I'm sorry," the short student apologized while rubbing her right arm, "I guess that I got over excited about all of this. I hope Helga will be too." She sounded nervous. Sympathetically, Lila came up and beamed. "Well, if it will make her happy that Arnold doesn't like-like me anymore, than I'm sure she will be pleased."

Oh so suddenly, they heard shouting from behind the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Who's the bozo at the door anyway?" Helga yelled as steps could be heard from outside. Phoebe adjusted her glasses as if it was a normal thing. _"Then again, they are best friends,"_ the country girl panicked slightly, _"so she must know Helga's oh so interesting habits." _When the door clicked open, it drew back to show that it was ever so the blonde.

"Thank God Pheebs, it's just you…,"Helga's speech got slower, "and Ms. Perfect? What are you doing here? I only asked Phoebe to come." Of course she also got angrier as well while her hands tapped on her hips. Lila understood that because of Arnold their friendship couldn't be oh so much farther apart. She had to act before things already got out of hand. Helga obviously wasn't having a good day.

"Well, um Helga, you see I was helping Phoebe when she fell on the ground." She was about to continue the rest of her story when suddenly both she and Helga were pushed into the house and the green door slammed shut behind the three girls. The two "frienemies" turned to the girl in blue. Lila's back was against the wall underneath pictures of Olga and the blonde stumbled but managed to put a hand on the table by the stairs. "Phoebe! What are you doing? I was asking why-"

"I don't care about what you were going to ask Lila right now Helga! We need to talk in your room. Lila is here for a very good reason and she might be able to help us." Phoebe looked overwhelmed by her best friend's attitude toward her and there was only oh so much time left. "And who says I will tell her anything? Huh?" Helga thumped her foot with a smirk on her face. It looked like she had won the oh so apparent "battle" in the room.

"Because baby sister you need to be kind to Lila and your little friend." Olga had come down the stairs in a black strapless dress and was putting on some oh so amazing pearl earrings. _"Wow, she looks so pretty. I can't believe Helga didn't say Olga was in town."_ Lila's smile grew as she came to the older Pataki sister and gave her a hug. To her, it was an oh so sweet surprise. Wrapping her arms around, "Oh Olga I missed you ever so much. Helga never said anything about you coming over." Looking down, the gesture was given back to the lonely red head. "I missed you too Lila," she squealed with excitement, "but right now I have to go for an early dinner tonight for the mayor." The girl stared back. "Why whatever is it for?"

Helga grumbled, "It's for her work in helping those less fortunate in the city's efforts in aiding the tundra." Lila stepped back down to the floor with a small smile, hoping the two sisters would hug too. "Oh yeah, I'm here to see Helga, Olga. So I understand. And that sounds like an oh so amazing experience. Maybe we can have lunch together sometime and talk about it." A horn honked outside, shaking the girls a bit. Olga made the rest of way down the stairs and reached for her matching purse. "Yes, that does sound fun. Do you want to join us Helga?" Lila had that feeling that her classmate wouldn't go. She just didn't seem ever so interested in the kinds of things that she and Olga liked to do.

Helga went for the stairs calmly even though her stomps were loud, grabbing the rail with her left hand tightly. Phoebe, who apparently had been standing by the entrance to the living room silent as usual, followed her as always. The steps creaked as they went up to her room. "No thanks sis, I have better things to do," she turned her head to Lila, "Are you coming with us princess or what?"

"Yeah, I'll be up in a minute Helga. Let me say goodbye to Olga first." The blonde rolled her eyes. "Whatever, come on Pheebs." They went around the corner to Helga's room.

Lila turned around to see the older sister for once not smiling. Instead she was looking sad up the stairs and a couple of tears ran down her face. The girl put a hand on her forearm. "What's wrong Olga?" Pulling her into a side hug, the woman's gaze did not look at the braided hair student. "Oh, it's nothing Lila. I guess I just miss my baby sister. We were never close. But I keep trying anyway." Again the horn honked outside and Olga let go of the girl. "Well, Mommy and Daddy are taking me to the dinner. So you keep Helga lots of company ok Little Sis?" The country girl smiled. "Sure Big Sis."

With that Olga left the house, leaving Lila in the hallway and only one place to go. _"Now to get to Helga's room. I wonder what it's like. She never let me in there before. This should be oh so interesting." _ Passing by a mirror on the wall, she made her way up the stairs and down the hall on the right.

"Now where is it," the red haired girl mumbled, "it has to be here somewhere."

The walls changed to a bright yellow color with wooden floors and an oh so beautiful blue ceiling. _"It reminds me of the ocean." _Making a left turn, the door was on the right. Straightening out her skirt, Lila was about to open the door. However, something didn't feel right. The knob was cold and she knew she should go in like Helga told her too.

"_Wait a minute, Helga,"_ she turned around and pressed herself against the door looking at the wall. A small table with ever so beautiful small red roses in a pot stood across from her. While they were pretty, _"Where are her pictures?"_ All Lila saw was pictures of Olga or of her and her parents. But there were photos of no Helga. _"Maybe they're somewhere else. I'll have to ask her. There must be some."_

Breathing a sigh of hope, Lila pulled the door unlocked and entered in backwards.

"What are you doing Ms. Perfect? Trying the moon walk while looking like some sort of zombie?" sneered an oh too familiar voice. The girl shivered down her back. Spinning toward the window was Helga and Phoebe sitting on a bed with a pink blanket on top. Blue green walls with gold hearts on, Lila thought it was simply lovely.

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry Helga. I was just looking around. I apologize," she walked over and sat by Phoebe, "Your room though is oh too nice as well. I wish mine were this nice." There was some truth to that. Her room was still in repair with cracks and everything. It was sad, yes, but her father was working hard at his job. And she couldn't be more proud of him.

The blonde crossed her arms when Lila offered a smile. "Humph, well, at least you made it before me and Phoebe started." She looked to her best friend again. "Anyhow, Phoebe what's going on with Arnold huh? Why's he acting weird? Was I right?" Helga was ever so anxious. She was gripping the sheets tightly as she leaned toward the girl in the middle. Lila was surprised. "Why didn't she confront me first?" Although Lila was concerned just as much as Helga was.

"What's ever so wrong with Arnold? I mean, I agree with Helga about him acting ever so odd today. Do you guys know what it is?"

Phoebe sighed as she grabbed her notepad from behind her and straightened her glasses. Going back and forth between the two, she spoke carefully. And a few sounds of thunder could be heard from outside. "Well first, Helga. We have got to tell Lila about what we suspected first before I can give you both answers. Do you trust me to tell her, Helga?" The blonde pointed a finger in Lila's direction. She was starting to sweat a little and she rubbed her forehead. "Please Helga, I promise not to tell; especially if you don't want me to."

"Fine, Helga said, "But you better not say anything, and I mean anything that goes on in this room!" She stared questioning at her. Lila gulped. "I, I promise." Helga crossed her arms and smirked. "Good. Tell her the story Pheebs and we'll go from there." The girl lied back on her bed, arms somehow going behind her head as she crossed her legs. Phoebe nodded and faced Lila. She sighed and looked off before facing her. There was sadness in the girl's eyes. _"There must be something ever so wrong."_

"You see Lila, the other day was a very important day for Arnold." The red head tilted her head ever so to the right. "What do you mean? His birthday? But isn't that today?" The girl nodded again. Helga sat up and moved to the window, sitting on the side. Lila saw her at the corner of her eye. She was leaning over, elbows on her knees and hands on her face. Her voice was ever so quiet. "Yes Lila it is. But a few days ago," she sighed, "for Ar, Arnold, it was the anniversary of when his parents left and he never saw them again."

"_Oh my,"_Lila thought,_ "poor Arnold. He's such an ever so sweet friend. I always wondered where his parents were."_

"That's ever so sad. But why was Phoebe behind the trash can?" She once again turned back to the Japanese girl. _"I better stop staring at Helga. It's oh so obvious she needs her space."_ Lila felt a small admiration for her classmate. She loved Arnold more than ever. _"And that's so sweet and romantic. Arnold's her oh so special someone. I just know it."_

"Well, as I was saying, as you now know, Arnold's parents are missing. And Helga wanted to make sure that he was ok. He doesn't like celebrating his birthday since it's only a couple days after the anniversary," Phoebe continued with her ever so sweet sensitivity to her friends, "She wanted to keep an eye on him today, but she had an appointment and asked me to do it. That's why I was behind the garbage can. I was taking notes to see if she could help him in secret."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah Pheebs, cut to the chase," Helga said from the window, "What's with Arnold and that contest?" The thunder turned into some lightening as the rain started to fall. She sounded oh so sad. _"Poor Helga," _Lila frowned.

"Yes. As I was saying, Arnold stayed at the house when you went to Dino Land. Right Helga?" Phoebe lowered her glasses with her left hand when she looked to the blonde. "Yeah, what of it? He was depressed. It's an understandable situation." Helga snapped, still not facing them. This pained the girl with the braids, seeing her like this. To her, it was ever so not normal. Then it suddenly felt oh so cold, like the wind was blowing on her again. _"It must be the air conditioning."_

"Calm down Helga. I'm just trying to help." Phoebe warned, reaching for her notepad. Folding it back to the front page, they stared at Helga whose shoulders slumped toward the window more. _"It looks like she's curled up into a ball. Only, only she's sitting up as if there was nothing wrong." _This wasn't going as well as she ever so hoped.

"You're right, I was being stupid," Helga sighed dejectedly, "Sorry Pheebs, please continue." The girl smiled." It's quite alright Helga. You're fine," glancing down at her writing, "Well, Arnold was feeling like he should give up on the hope that his parents would come back. He said that he was putting stuff such as his hat away in the attic; really anything that reminded him of them, and, and then he found his dad's journal."

This made Helga's head twist to them, obviously in the same shock that Lila found herself in. But it was a happier shock. "His dad's journal? Are you serious?" Lila found herself oh so staring at Phoebe. "That's just ever so sweet! Arnold really has something of his dad's? That must be making him oh so happy." She had that far away look in her eyes. A tear or two fell down her cheek in all of the excitement. And looking at Helga, it seemed that she had the ever so same reaction. Phoebe just grinned though. "Yes. He even pulled it out and showed it to Gerald. It seems that it was the book he dropped in class today."

Helga's hand went up to touch her bow as she finally sat herself closer to Lila. Leaning in her direction, she realized she did that to face Phoebe better. "Well, well that would make sense. He never normally reads books in his lap. What, what happened next Pheebs? Oh, and can you turn on the lamp? It's way too dark in here. That's storm's driving me crazy."

"Most certainly Helga." She set down her notepad only for a moment before clicking on the lamp. When she came back she went on, "He started to talk about how his parents met, fell in love, and the adventures they had together. His father was an anthropologist and his mom was a botanist. Together, they helped the Green Eyed People." Lila and Helga were lost and their brows rose. "The Green Eyed People? Who the heck are they?"

"Well apparently," she shifted on the bed, "they are like the modern version of the Aztecs and Mayans according to Arnold except they are very secretive. They saved his parents, so in turn they help that civilization by curing them of a sleeping sickness of some sort. After that, his parents got married and had him. Although the story of his birth is quite odd, it even shocks me."

"How was it odd Pheebs?" Helga asked as she crossed her legs, almost sounding bored. However, Phoebe was ever so the opposite. "He said he was born during a volcanic eruption! He also said that he silenced all of nature as a result." Lila's mouth hung open for a moment, but then her smile grew oh so wide with wonder. "Wow, that's ever so interesting. Are you sure?" The black haired girl nodded, now forming a triangle with Helga and Lila on the bed. The notebook was in the middle. "That is what he said. After that they moved here because they thought it was too dangerous for Arnold to be living in a jungle environment."

"So he was born in the jungle during a volcanic eruption and silenced all of nature?" Helga chuckled, "If I ever ask him, he's still gonna have to convince me." This made Lila oh so happy. Helga seemed to feel better. The red head played with her right braid, tightening it. Another roar of thunder boomed.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Very well Helga," her words somehow became ever so more cautious, "Then he said that he and his parents lived here very well for the first year or so. They took him to the park and got him his hat. Then later on that day, a friend of his dad's came and told them that they had to help the Green Eyes again with the sleeping sickness. They didn't want to leave Arnold. But they thought it wouldn't be a long trip. So they left," she gulped and played with her fingers, "but they were never found."

Looking to her right, Lila saw Helga scooting back farther until she hit the end of her bed. More tears fell down her face. The ever so saddest part was watching her wiping them off, but more kept falling. Her hands balled into fists as her knees pulled up to her chest. Her face didn't meet Lila's and Phoebe's gaze."Oh Arnold, why? Why him?"

"Helga." Lila tried to reach out to her shoulder to try to comfort her. _"I've never seen her like this."_

But then she looked up in oh so much distress. "You guys don't get it! He, he means everything to me! And knowing about his parents now, it makes me sick! I mean, I'm not mad at them. They didn't know what would happen," she was slowly becoming hysterical as her hands waved around. "It's just that he doesn't deserve it. He's done so much for us, for me, that it makes me want to help! And I can't do anything!"

"But Helga-"

"What is it?!" she screamed. Scaring Lila, she almost landed on the floor. It was oh so lucky that she somehow gripped the blanket. While her heart ever so raced, she looked at Phoebe who was calm as ever. _"How does she oh so stay calm?"_

"There is something you could do to help him." Phoebe tossed the notepad over her back, hitting the bed frame with a small bang. Helga brought her arms down, ever so hiccupping a little bit. Her voice also seemed ever so more, dare Lila say it, more feminine. _"It's as if she's no longer the Helga I know."_ Lila sat there in oh so much awe of her classmate."There is?"

Phoebe nodded, coming closer to Helga and rubbing her back with her left hand."Yes."

"Oh whatever is it Phoebe?" Lila asked. She was just oh so happy for Helga. Her day seemed to be getting better. She also noticed that the best friends were sitting ever so close to each other that they could hug. "Helga really needs one." Lila's thoughts continued to wonder around the oh so sweet idea of the blonde getting affection. It brought a smile to her face as she looked on. "Remember that essay contest and why Arnold was so shocked by it?"

"Yeah. So what? It's just a dumb trip." Helga shrugged. Phoebe moved her hand and shook her. It made her look right into her best friend's glasses. "But Helga, one of the countries on that list we were given in class was a country that his parents disappeared to!" Once again, another tear escaped her eye. Her voice whispered, "Are, are you serious? Really Phoebe?" Lila reached down for Helga's hand and held it ever so tightly. And surprisingly, she squeezed back. "Yes Helga. San Lorenzo is on that list. Arnold also said that he found a map that could lead him to them." All of their eyes widened. Lila calmly stated, "So if that means if Arnold wins the contest-"

"He'll go to San Lorenzo to find his parents," finished Phoebe. Helga released Lila and Phoebe's hands and turned around to stand up. "We gotta make sure he wins that contest!," she pounded her fist against her vanity closet, "But how?"

"Well it is an essay contest Helga. So maybe you could help him through that." Lila held out her palm as she watched Helga pace the floor beside her and Phoebe. The blonde looked ever so angrily at her, eyes seeming have lost the tears. "And what? Ask him to let me write the essay for him? Yeah right Ms. Perfect. Or better yet, why don't you ask him yourself and he'll let you do it! You already have him crushing on you all over the place! He'd do it in a landslide!"

Lila shook her head. "But Helga, you are the one who is in love with him. Why don't you ask him?" She tried to reach out to her, but she backed away crossing her arms again. Helga looked to the door. "Because I can't ok? He hates me and he likes you. You have to ask him." She sounded more depressed again, starting to walk to the door. Lila took the time to get up and follow her. Using her thin body, the red head managed to block Helga for a moment and led her back to the bed.

"Helga, remember when he spent time with me and Gerald's sister?" The girl nodded. "Yeah, so what?" Setting her down between her and Phoebe, it was time to tell Helga the truth. "Well I found out he was using her to get me to like-like him."Helga scoffed, refusing to look at her."Like that's obvious Ms. Perfect."

"Helga!" Phoebe shouted. All three of them had their legs hanging on the side of the bed. Helga shrugged as she glanced at Phoebe. She raised her hands in question. "What? I mean he's liked Lila so long it doesn't surprise me that he would do that." Lila sighed, rubbing her temple and shutting her eyes. "Well, anyway, I told him I was very upset with him. But he's over me now. He's not trying to get me to like him anymore."

"What makes you say that huh?" Helga asked as she leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Lila pulled the slip of paper she showed Phoebe earlier out of her pocket. "He came to me the next day and said that he was done and he even gave me Arnie's phone number as proof. Ever since then, we've been just friends."She thought that it would be ever so enough to convince Helga as she handed over the writing. Unfortunately, she crumpled up the paper, opened her eyes, and shoved it back in her hands. "That doesn't mean he doesn't like-like you still."

Lila, for once in her life, was actually oh so fed up with someone's attitude.

"So what? Helga, I'm just saying that it makes ever so more sense that you do it and not me."

Phoebe nodded in her direction. "She's right Helga. I mean you are one of the best English students in class. Maybe you could still do it in secret." Helga turned her head. "Oh yeah. How?"She asked suspiciously, beginning to sit up. "Take his essay after he turns it in. Chances are he'll turn it in early since it means so much to him. All you have to do is edit it, rewrite it, and turn it in before anyone notices."

"Really? That does seem like a good plan," she smirked, "I mean, next to Pheebs here, I have the best penmanship in school. I bet I could figure out Arnold's handwriting."

"Exactly." Both of the other girls nodded again. Helga smiled and stood up, grabbing their arms and forcing them to stand up with her. "Alright I'll do it! And I need you guys to back me up. You know, if anyone should ask or anything."

"Sure Helga." Phoebe said, pulling Helga in a ever so sweet side hug. Lila, on Helga's right side, put a hand to her shoulder. "Yeah, I oh so don't mind helping you." To the country girl, it was a moment that she never thought would happen between her and Helga. "_But I have to ever so get home. Dad will be worried if I'm not there soon._" Pulling away from the blonde and Japanese girl, Lila stepped toward the door."Well I better get going. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow. Have a good day!" She was about to leave the two best friends alone, when she felt a hand take her arm back.

"Wait Lila! Please!"She shouted oh so desperately. "What is it Helga?" Lila stared at Phoebe. By the way she was looking at Helga, she was just as clueless. "Yes, what is ever so wrong? I thought we had this plan figured out."

Helga sighed after letting go of her arm. "We do. It's just that, come here." She sat back down on her bed, reaching for her blanket and wrapped it around herself. Helga seemed oh so helpless all over again. Lila and Phoebe both stood in front of her. "Listen, I was talking to Dr. Bliss."

"You see Dr. Bliss?" asked Lila, surprised to learn that. Helga always seemed so in control. What else besides Arnold could be wrong in her life? _"Then again, there were no pictures in the house of her. Oh Helga."_ The blonde ran a hand down her face as she leaned over. "Yes. Anyhow, I was talking to her about the whole neighborhood in crisis thing from last summer." Lila turned to Phoebe, who ever so did the same to her. They both looked at Helga. "Well what about it?"

"I,I may have helped Arnold and Gerald out in secret." The black haired girl gasped, putting a hand to her mouth."But Helga, didn't you say that you could get rich when the neighborhood went down?" Her voice almost sounded ever so dry from the news. Helga's legs kicked the bed in her oh so embarrassment. "Well, yeah."

"So," Lila wondered, "why would you help them?" But she had some idea of a oh so sweet answer. Luckily, Phoebe voiced her thoughts. "Because Arnold would leave. Right Helga?"

"Yes Pheebs, that's why." Lila felt her smile dreamily, her hands folding together to the side of her face and she knew it couldn't be helped. "Oh that's just ever so romantic Helga." However, instead of her classmate smiling, she frowned. "Yeah, it just gets dandy from there."

"What do you mean?" asked Phoebe. Helga then oh so chose to lift her face to meet not Phoebe's, but Lila's. "Well Arnold found out and demanded to know why I did it." Meanwhile, the red head blinked back into reality. "Oh no you didn't tell him that you love him. Did you?" Helga stood up and raised her arms and waved them around as she walked past them to her closet door. "I had no choice! I used every excuse I could think of but he wasn't taking the bait!"

Lila felt the anger rise in her throat. "So he's known all of this time?" Her thoughts were racing._ "So even after she told him the truth, he still tried to get me to like him-like him?"_

"Yeah, I guess. I mean after I kissed him-" That ever so nailed it for her and Phoebe alike. "Wait! You kissed him!" They shouted, ironically at the oh so same time. Helga turned around to face them."Hey I couldn't help myself! If we did fail I wanted the last opportunity I could get to tell him my feelings were true. And then after that, after that." She started to choke up. And tears pooled in her eyes. _"What could have happened?"_Lila thought. She had to ask as Helga returned to her bed. "What Helga?"

She sighed, grabbing one of her pillows to squeeze on. She chose not to look at either of them, making Lila feel worse. "He wanted it to be in the "heat of the moment" and I agreed to it because I wasn't ready for the confession and I knew it."

Phoebe gasped and sat on Helga's left side. "Oh my." Lila remained standing. "I'm ever so sorry Helga. But what did Dr. Bliss say?" Helga looked down and brought the pillow to stuff her face with. "She said that, that based on my perspective that I should get over him. I shouldn't live for someone that obviously doesn't want to love me in return."

"Are you going to do it though?" asked Phoebe. And even though she should be looking at Helga, Lila found herself staring at Phoebe. _"She knows Helga so well. If Helga really loves Arnold, then it's going to be hard on her too because I'm oh so certain that she believes that Arnold and Helga are supposed to be together too." _ Deep, deep down, Lila didn't want this to happen. She returned her gaze to Helga.

"After I thought about it on my way here, I am because she's right. We're just not meant to be. It's not going to be easy, but I will. I just need to get rid of my stuff-" She started to ramble on about her plans to do this. "But Helga!"

"What?" she sniffled into the pillow, looking at Lila. "What about the contest? Why are you doing this for him if you're trying to get over him?" She chose her words carefully, hoping not to hurt Helga more than she already was.

"Because if this is not going be a way to prove that I love him, then this is just an anonymous thank you gift."

"Why will it be a thank you gift?"

"For all the things he's done to help us. Look, if he wins and he goes, he probably will ask for our help. And all of us, as his friends and classmates and teachers, will help him. It's the only way we can make it up to him. And it's the only way I'll be able to forgive myself."

"_Oh Helga,"_ Lila and Phoebe thought.

Lila and Phoebe in turn laid their hands on Helga's shoulders as she cried away into her pillow on the storming, cold evening of Arnold's tenth birthday.


	7. Grandpa

"Quit playing that piano Pookie! I'm reading the newspaper." Flipping another page, Phil was sitting in the kitchen eating his warm pancakes muttering to himself. "Stupid piano. I don't care if I bought it for her birthday, hmm," taking another bite, "she shouldn't be playing it this early in the morning! She might as well play the one on the roof." Sure he loved his wife, with all of his heart. But there were times when he just couldn't understand her. He pounded his right fist on the table, which almost fell over. But fortunately he stood up, letting the paper drop to the floor as he caught it from under his hands. He leaned over and moved it so that it wouldn't do it again. Turning around he found his chair and let it squeak as he brought it over to the table.

Once he sat, he realized something was missing. _"Let's see I have my pancakes, coffee, messed up table, oh yeah; my beloved paper." _ He picked up what he was reading, hoping that all of the distractions would stop. Scratching the back of his head, he skimmed over the really small text. All he could really read was the titles and hoped for the best that he would understand. Anyway, it seemed that there was peace as it sounded that Pookie had stopped playing Home on the Range. He picked up the cup and sipped his coffee. He sighed in relief; nothing better in the morning than silence.

"Eat up Tex for the cattle drive today!"

Her yell surprised him so much that he spit his drink right on his newspaper. Glaring up at her as she walked into the room with her white cowgirl hat on with the green strip, she carried in the stupid triangle along with it. "Pookie! Don't do that, you'll wake up Oskar with all of that shouting and I won't have any more of my breakfast." She looked over to him, set her instrument down, and went to pat Phil's head. "Oh Slim, I wouldn't worry about that poor billy goat. If anything goes wrong, I'll throw him out of our ranch house and into the barn to chew on the grass!"

He leaned into her hug and smiled, touching her hand that rested on his shoulder. "Ah, that's my Pookie." Letting go, she walked over to the counter and brought over a stack of the same pancakes for his favorite grandson Arnold. _"In speaking of which, where is the boy?"_ He glanced at the door only to see Arnold walk in, a little nervous apparently. He wasn't really looking at either one of his grandparents. All he did was stare at a crinkled paper in hands. Phil raised an eyebrow as he rung out the newspaper on top of his breakfast not feeling like eating it anymore.

"What's that you got there shortman? A permission slip you need me to sign for a field trip some place?" Grandpa asked happily. He hoped that would help the boy at least smile. Unfortunately, Arnold went to sit in the chair across from him, and slid the paper over to him. "Not, not exactly. I do want you to look at it though because it's important. Grandma, could you also sit down? I, I think the both of you should know about this." He folded his hands and set them on the table.

Phil and Gertie stared at Arnold, and then at each other. What could be wrong? And why was Arnold stuttering? His wife set down the frying pan that she had been working with at the stove and sat down beside him. Well, anyhow, he picked up the paper and read down the list. "Egypt, that's nice. France, well that's just filled with snails. San Lorenzo that's, what?" He lifted his eyes to see that his grandson had his arms crossed as he stared at the table. This wasn't good, that was for sure. He had to be careful around Arnold because he knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"San Lorenzo, eh?" he handed the sheet over to Pookie as he forced himself to sound alright. "What a surprise Shortman. But Arnold, can I ask you something?" Looking at the boy, Phil could see that his hands turned to fists as his wife scooted her chair over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You probably are wondering what this is about?" Arnold lifted his head and turned to him and reached for Gertie's hand. What caught Phil off guard was how his grandson sounded.

He sounded as if he wasn't just nervous, but excited too. And this confused him. Normally Arnold, especially over the past few days since they found his son's journal, was very sad. It was mainly because it was just that even though he had found a map, they just didn't have the funds to go and suddenly leave the country.

But Arnold smiled a little. Grandpa sighed in relief a bit too. But the boy had to tell them what was going on because anything involving San Lorenzo meant a lot.

"First of all, I'm sorry. You guys, you know I love you both, but I already told Gerald and Mr. Huynh the story. I know I should have come to you guys earlier. But I was so excited that I couldn't help myself. You see, yesterday as you guys know was my birthday. And I appreciate how you both have understood me and helped me over the years. So I hope you can understand after I explain." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The boy's fists just kept on opening and closing, opening and closing. And Pookie kept her hold on him.

Phil pushed his plate aside and leaned over to pat his other hand. "You can explain as much as you need to Shortman. You know your grandma and I are here to listen." Luckily Arnold has opened his eyes and looked back at him.

"Thanks Grandpa. Anyhow, when I was at school yesterday we had a woman come into our classroom after lunch. She had this Spanish accent and was very nice. She told us about this essay contest that we as a class are required to do and turn in. It's about our favorite discovery and if one of us wins, well," he turned around to his grandma for a moment. He looked unsure, as if he was going to upset them. He also gulped. "Well, uh, the entire class wins a free trip. But the student who wins gets to choose the country on the list."

Phil knew where this was going. It wasn't like what Arnold was suggesting was a bad thing; not at all. He'd get to see another country just like he had when he was a private in the army during World War II, learn about a new culture. And possibly find some information about his son and daughter-in-law from the locals. _"But with that map, I don't know."_

"And I was thinking that, and I know that it is a very small chance, but if I win the contest, then I might have the chance to go to San Lorenzo." Then he suddenly sat up, and got out of his chair. Gertie had to let go of him with a frown. It was just as hard on her too. Miles was her son. In a way, Phil supposed that because they had raised him, it was like Arnold was more than their grandson. He was in a way another son to them. And having him tell this was hard on the both of them.

He walked around to his grandfather. The boy had such sad eyes that it hurt Phil to even see a tear slip out. "You know how important this is to me, to all of us. And if I could just have you guys being alright with this, I'll be happy." Well, just like he said, it meant a lot to him. And the man couldn't complain. He remembered that same look on Arnold's face when he saw Miles and Stella leave. _"He was holding a toy plane that day. And if he wins, then he'll be on a real one instead." _

Phil leaned over in his chair while he faced down at his only grandson. This decision, even if it was a classroom assignment, was a piece that the boy needed. "Oh, Arnold, listen to me very carefully," watching him flinch back. It was almost as if he was going to tell him not to go or choose another country.

"Your grandma and I have loved you ever since your father told us about you when he was all the way in San Lorenzo with your mother. Heck, we loved you so much that Pookie went up to the roof and started to set up the blue and pink fireworks! Because, you know, we weren't sure if you were going to be a boy or girl at the time." He ruffled Arnold's hair as he laughed for the first time that morning. "And when we all saw you for the first time, you were so handsome! Even as a baby you were," Phil reached for the boy's hand. Arnold stared at him.

"But you see, a part of me will always feel bad for what happened to your mom and dad. You remind me so much of your father when he was your age. Oh I remember playing ball with him in the park and how he would help Mrs. Vitello in the flower shop," He smiled at the memories.

"Did you know he was even friends with Harvey as a kid? Of course Harvey was a little older, but they still got along. Just like Gerald is to you," then he whispered, "Just don't tell him that though ok? We don't need him scared that he won't be a business man or something right?" His grandson laughed at that. "Yeah sure Grandpa. I won't tell him. Although I don't think he'll mind that much. He likes Harvey. So I'm sure that he'd be fine."

Somehow, Phil wanted to give him a strong hug. But he understood that he wasn't anywhere finished with his point. "But you see, Arnold, in a very strong way you are so different from him." Watching the boy raise an eyebrow, the man saw that he was going to ask why. "And I say this because when I say a kid, I meant it. And I know you're only ten years old now, but you haven't really been a kid at all." Arnold tugged on his hand more. "What do you mean Grandpa? Of course I'm a kid. I go to school; I play baseball with my friends. How are those things related to not being a kid?" He asked in confusion. Phil sighed as he held on tighter and looked directly in the eye with him.

"I'm not saying that those things aren't related to being a kid because that's as simple as it should be. But it isn't. Arnold, you are more of an adult to us, to other adults, and to your own friends and even strangers than we are to you! You have accomplished so much and we are so proud of you for all of the things you have done."

Pookie suddenly appeared beside him and gave her husband a pat on his shoulder. "Yes Arnold. Like I told you, you're a pip," and she smiled, "and that's never going to change. But your grandfather is right. You have done so much for us whether or not you see it. You should be more of a kid than anything else! And I think what you need to do is-" But Phil cut in.

"What _we_ think you need to is go down there if you win. You have been the best grandson any man or woman could ask for. You can handle yourself, especially since you would have your friends and teachers to help you. And most importantly, if you ever find any more answers at least you will feel better hopefully." He pulled Arnold in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around the poor boy. If anyone could write an essay about a favorite discovery, Arnold could. And this was especially true now that he had the story about the journal. "In speaking of which," Grandpa started.

The boy still had his arms gripping onto his as he pulled back, smiling. Heck, he was grinning ear to ear! "What is it Grandpa?"

For some reason, even though it was probably a long way from it possibly happening, Phil could see his grandson getting on that plane. "Well, Arnold. I want you to promise me something. Please don't use the map or the journal at all ok? I know it means a lot to you right now but I need you to not take it with you. We don't want you to get lost in the jungle along with everyone else. You can ask the locals or other sources if you want about any questions you may have. But no going off into a dangerous place alright?"

Phil waited patiently as he watched Arnold's face slowly frown a bit. He didn't want to say this to Arnold. But being in the jungle was like being at war. It was dangerous at every turn, and that made him more worried for the boy's sake.

Arnold reluctantly nodded his head. "Yes Grandpa I promise you that I won't going into the jungle. I mean, why would I want to cause anyone to be hurt in case of an emergency and we had no help? That would be crazy. But thank you both for understanding." He pulled out of his grandfather's arms with a smile. Then he went around him as Gertie removed her hand from the man's shoulder as she gave Arnold a loving hug.

As the boy returned it with a nice smile again, he asked, "Hey Grandma, can I have some pancakes now? I'm kind of starving."

"Sure thing Arnold. I mean Tex." Gertie winked at him as Phil once again smiled. It seemed like a nice, and finally peaceful, family moment. He sighed in relief again as Arnold went to sit across from him to eat. And, well, he lifted his old body out of the chair to stretch and to get around throwing out his breakfast. Except, however, there was only one problem.

"Hey Grandpa, can I have some of your breakfast?"

"Beat it Oskar! Pookie, I think the billy goat needs his grass!"


	8. Helga

The sunlight somehow found its way into the bedroom, but it didn't affect the girl's attitude. Last night didn't go too well either. She remembered the crying, especially that since she wasn't used to tears in the first place. However she probably wouldn't have remembered it if there were no dried tear marks on her face. It felt more like a bad dream than anything else. The sadness, the pain, the black plastic, the small shouts from her classmates as they asked her to stop what she was doing. But she didn't care.

What she knew what she was doing was the best for everyone whether or not she liked, no, loved it.

Helga's eyes were sore and exhausted as she struggled to blink. She could sense that there were dark circles under them without even having to look. Her arms were also pained and her feet felt like they had walked a few miles when really she was only in and out of her room to get the black garbage bag. She flexed her fists as she sat up on her elbows not daring to move anything else. A frown marred her features as she knew that she sounded more depressed than ever in her entire life.

"Well, today's the day," she continued to stare at the bed frame as the light made her brass bed look golden. "The day I start living a new life without Arnold in it." It pained her to say that, and it was all she could muster except one thing – a chuckle. _"At least there isn't any love potion involved."_ It seemed like that was the going to be the only humor she had in her. Lifting her ragdoll blanket, its soft material moved off to the side as she got out of bed. She sat there, Helga's mind a blank.

There was nothing to say, nothing to think other than the thoughts of giving up on her beloved ever loving her in return. She sat there, her left hand reaching up behind her head to loosen her hair. She turned her attention to the floor as there was her shadow creeping up on her as if it was watching her every move. But more importantly, something was missing. _"What could it be?"_ She had on her pink pajama shirt on as well as her pigtails. Her fingers worked their way up, and that was when she knew what was missing. "My bow. Where is it?"

The girl turned this way and that, squinting as the light got in her eyes. _"I like your bow because it's pink like your pants."_ Helga stilled her back as she turned to her window. Even though she could hear random cars and the blurred conversations that were held outside, that memory stood out more than anything. The tree branches tapped the window as a knock was heard from the door. "Helga, time to get up," Miriam shouted, "you're going to be late!" She turned around, not because of her mother's emotionless voice, but the sound of the plastic sack hanging from her door knob.

Helga coughed lightly, trying to mask her hurt. The last thing she needed was for her mom to barge in at the moment. "Ok, ok Miriam I'm up! I'm getting ready sheesh!" When the woman's footsteps were heard, it was obvious that she had left. Helga then turned to the window again and sighed. "This isn't going to be easy is it Ar- no, no. I'm getting over him starting right now." Stumbling on her own two feet, she went to the mirror by the bag. "I mean, he's never going to love me. He has been honest practically his whole life. If he were to truly have feelings for me, well," she rubbed her right arm before reaching the garbage can to stand on. Flipping it over, it clanked while Helga set herself straight on top of it. She was too short to see much past her head.

When she had the chance, she actually saw herself in the mirror. The self that she wouldn't normally let her eyes look at, but there was nothing really to hide anymore. She already exposed her inner most secrets to a football headed boy that could care about her, but didn't love her. Her eyes were too red as she stood there. Her blonde hair was tangled as one pigtail was slightly undone. No bow in sight, tear marks, dark eyes, and messed up hair, Helga wasn't the person that she knew everyone had come to known her as. What would Harold say? Sid? Gerald? Phoebe? All of these thoughts about what everyone else thought of her circled in her mind. Another tear shed.

"Hey, hey why am I crying? I shouldn't cry. I'm Helga Pataki." The girl said in a way to make her feel better, stronger like her normal self; sadness still laced in her attempt. But she was going to change all of that. Her attitude – no; except toward Arnold most likely. But this appearance, she grimaced with annoyance, had to go. She couldn't get this upset, look this distressed. Sure she would have to get over the only person that genuinely cared about her. But she could handle things without him. She had done so with everything else in her life.

She reached up and tugged at her clear hair ties, pulling them down from the sides of her head. It flicked her ears, hearing the sounds as her hair fell down onto her shoulders and back. Her bangs were still long and covered her forehead save her brow. Since last year's Valentine's Day, she always wondered how her bangs had been able to be put to the side along with the rest of her face. Of course she had to hide half of it without Ar-.

"Man! This isn't working!" She tossed one of the hair ties to the ground in frustration. "How can I stop thinking about him? I mean," stepping down and went to her bedside for her hair brush, "Just because I'm getting rid of all of my stuff, that doesn't mean that I'll stop seeing him permanently, not have all the memories inside my stupid head, and still manage to somehow edit his essay." Gripping the item, Helga let it sort her hair the way it should be as her head leaned to the left and her eyes closed. She pulled at it roughly, but slowly so that at least she wouldn't go bald.

Since she no longer had the bow, most likely because it was in the garbage, and it would be weird for her to just have her pigtails, she set her blonde hair in a tight ponytail that hung low behind her back. That way, she could have her hair down and Arnold wouldn't know that she was "Cecile" last year. The last thing that she needed was for him to question her. Helga knew that she was somewhat turning over a new leaf.

"But," the girl said to herself as she went for the closet, "I can't ignore him like I did with the love potion incident either. He noticed a change the first day, and last, day I tried that. And now that he knows, he definitely would bring it up. I have to keep myself busy. That way he can't tell what's going on. But how can I?" Helga pulled the doorknob, frowning again as she looked to find an empty, Arnold-shrine-free closet. _"Thank goodness I threw this stuff out after Pheebs and Lila left. Otherwise I'd never hear the end of it."_Only a few pieces of old candy wrappers, the occasional lint ball, and her daily white shirt and pink jumper on hangers. She heard the hangers clank against each other as she yanked her outfit and quickly shut the door.

She chose not to think much more on it as she continued to get dressed and put on her white shoes. Nothing too major and she could easily explain the hair. It wasn't that big of a deal. But her side started hurting because of her nervousness about the day. She was used to feeling nauseous, even her doctor knew with her "special medication". Helga knew it typically happened whenever she was anxious. But she understood that making this big of a change in her life would take getting used to. So she shrugged her shoulders in thought that the pain would only subside with time.

Then she ended up stepping down the stairs steadily with the garbage bag, hearing each creak and the smell of honey biscuits and French toast reaching her nose. It was probably very delicious. "But it was probably made by Olga," Helga murmured to herself, "Like I'd give her that satisfaction that she once again is the perfect daughter." It wasn't a good day already that she'd have to give up the only thing that she has ever truly loved. But it really didn't help that her sister made her scowl because she was everything Helga wasn't.

Simply put – Helga was unloved and she believed she deserved to be. She understood that she could never meet Olga's self proclaimed standards or any attempts at having Arnold return her feelings.

Sensing that the tears were going to well up in her eyes, Helga set the plastic bag aside, knelt by her backpack in the front hall and unzipped the cold fabric in search of any money that in her math book. The book was obviously made for counting numbers and the class right before she had lunch, so she always left any spare money in there. After going through page by page, her eyes went wide. "I had forgotten to get rid of this one. I-I have to get rid of it," it was the shrine she carved out, "it-it's for the best."

Fortunately there was some cash, about enough to get her some tapioca pudding. Once she put the money in her jumper pocket where her locket once was, she gently sighed in defeat as she reached to the black bag once more. It crinkled, and Helga cringed. She didn't want Olga to find her, or worse Bob. He'd probably force her to eat and tell her sister that she's an amazing cook. She turned her head around, hair tickling her upper arm, lucky to find that no one heard her. Helga went back to opening the bag and stuffing the math book inside as quietly as she could.

Once it was safe and secure, the girl stood up as she grasped her coat off the hook on the wall. Normally the purple jacket was comforting during this time of year. But everything, obviously, reminded her of Arnold! This was ridiculous! _"I wore this coat last Thanksgiving! But I, but I have nothing else. Oh well, I suppose I, I have no choice. I have to accept it. Everything will remind me of him because I love him. But I have to get over him. This, this is bad; the hair, closet, the locket, the math book, and now this!"_ Helga was frustrated because knowing that she thought this over and over again all morning, but apparently it just wasn't that easy to let go.

The silky texture met her arms as she pulled the wool garment on her back. Just because it was sunny didn't mean it wasn't cold or that it wouldn't get cold. Her hand grasped and opened the door as the other put the backpack over her shoulder. The sunlight warmed her face, but the light wind made her have goose bumps running up and down her body. "Crimeny," she glanced down as she grabbed onto the garbage bag, "this is it huh Arnold?" This would be the last time, even though she couldn't see the items beneath it, that she would ever own them again. They were garbage.

Her love was garbage. "My happiness is useless right now. But hopefully, with the last bit of help from you Football Head," she smiled as she descended the stairs with the bag, "I can get it back without your help at the same time."

They clunked and banged as she closed the front of her house. Her feet were quiet as the rest of everyone else's lives passed by her own gaze. Looking down the street to her left, she saw that the garbage truck come up the street. Now finding herself on the sidewalk, Helga tapped her fingers harder against the bag, almost as if it wasn't just about to disappear under her touch. She knew she wanted to take her possessions upstairs and store them in her closet and do what she had done day to day since she was three.

She strode forward and lifted the chilly metal lid to one of the cans as the truck was heading toward her. Helga's stuff went with her. She fixed her eyes on the item in her hand as it came closer to face one last time. It didn't smell anything like rotten eggs. She giggled. _"You could never smell like rotten eggs my love. Only a stupid steel mill train."_

"Hey girl, are you going to pitch that or what?" Helga shuddered as she turned her attention to the scruffy looking elderly man. His voice was deep and dry. And he was impatient, probably because he had to pick up half of Hillwood's garbage.

It wasn't him that she was surprised of. She shouldn't have felt that way. It was just that she kept saying to herself that today was absolutely necessary, for everyone's sakes, that it didn't feel like that it would happen as suddenly as it came. But here it was, and Helga wasn't going to give in. She never would want to do this.

Not in any lifetime. She loved Arnold that much. But she didn't want to get her hopes up anymore. Nor did she want Arnold to come to the conclusion that he hated her at some point in the future. If she gave in, she would probably continue her bullying against him, have him more than angry and yell at her, and bring up her confession. Then she'd deny it, he would say that's a lie. And then he would ignore her, and leave her to herself. He would later on come to hate her.

It was what she deserved, she knew it. But she couldn't imagine her life without the Football Head around. However, she was going to try it anyway. That way he couldn't hate her and if she actually found something else to live for, or even someone else, then they'd both be happy. And all of this mess would be solved. It, it was the only way.

Helga continued to put the bag in the garbage can. "Yeah take it. I don't need it," she forcefully whispered. It bellowed out as the items hit the floor. This was too much for her. That was all she could say as she made her way to P.S. 118. And by the time she had gotten there, as she looked at her classmates one by one in a blur as they went into the school, a tear stain was left on her cheek.

Even as she saw Arnold walking up the stairs with Gerald, laughing about something or other, she stood there a few moments longer before the warning bell rang.

"I may get over you someday or somehow, but at least for a while you had my love Arnold, which is more than I'll ever get from anybody. So if you ever find yourself saying that you feel as if you were never loved, than at least you know now that I did, but I," Helga sniffled, "oh I can't even say it." She couldn't say it, because eventually it wasn't going to be true.

But the tear stain was real. And that was enough for her to start all over again. After all, the rain washes away problem's doesn't it? Or maybe it was just Arnold. After all, she met him on a day like his birthday after all - cloudy, cold, and raining. But there was this sunshine that he gave her.

And for right at that moment, the tear stain and the sunshine was all Helga needed. She could change. Helga just needed the chance. And that letter, although no one would know it especially Arnold, was one of the first steps.

"_And I'm Helga Pataki. I'll find something I can do solely for myself and not anyone else. I can do anything if I stay strong and hold on to my determination,"_ she genuinely smiled for the first time to herself as she walked up the stairs to class.


	9. Mr Simmons

"Students, students please calm down." He leaned against his desk on his hands as he counted attendance. The majority of the class was already in the room. Their voices almost overpowered his, but he sighed with his eyes closed. _"At least I don't need my ears to figure out who is here to start our special day." _Unfortunately, one of Harold's shouts for his rubber snake from Sid shook them open again. Well, still he smiled. "Now now everyone, it's time to start the day." Mr. Simmons could feel the sweat at the back of his neck as he twisted around to collect the sheet behind him. The air conditioning was cold, so it helped with his nerves. For some reason, the man felt as if it really was going to be a special day, but for a whole new reason.

Looking back to his class as the bell rang, it was still a little loud. But the students were starting to get quiet as they waited for what would start as a typical day for them. Sometimes he had to through a little speech to them about how important it was for them to learn, more recently he had given it three times last week. Some students groaned when they heard the bell and laid their head on the desk. "Now, class. I have something very exciting to tell you today. But first," he glanced down at the paper in his hand, "let me see who's here."

Mr. Simmons really didn't need the list anymore. His class was so different and so special that he memorized who was who by heart by that point. He just used it to keep the class calmed down.

"Sheena?" The tall girl raised her hand. "Here I am Mr. Simmons." Her voice was a little high, but her happy face was cheerful. "Thank you Sheena," the man grinned graciously.

"Harold? There you are! I thought I saw you in the hall!" The boy had his lunch bag on top of his desk with his hand holding onto it. He grumbled as his other hand held his head. Mr. Simmons frowned slightly. "Harold, put your lunch down. It's class time now. You can have your lunch later." Again, as Harold set his lunch down he seemed to complain to himself. "Madame Fortress Mommy…" Robert shook his head and continued down his list.

"Brainy?" Not much more than a few shaky breaths as the pale boy waved his hand a little. "Uhh, here." The remaining students sighed at his typical answer. He never really talked. Sometimes Mr. Simmons would wonder what he was thinking because of his silence. He was probably very interesting deep down.

"Anyway, umm, are you here Lorenzo?" It wasn't hard to find him. The Latino boy always sat right in front of him, and with his laptop and cell phone in the mornings. Luckily, after having a conference with his generous mother last year, the boy was now shutting his technology. He stammered as he looked up. "Sorry Mr. Simmons. I'm here. And, and I'm putting away my stuff." Lorenzo grinned sheepishly.

"That's fine Lorenzo, as long as you're listening. Now, Curly." The black-haired boy was in the back of his classroom, staring at one of his other students, Rhonda. She was just a couple of rows in front of him. His circle glasses turned to him. "Oh I'm here Mr. Simmons. Definitely," and as quietly as he could, "for my dear Rhonda."He seemed to somehow purr.

"Um, ok Curly. As long as you're here…" he continued to look, "Sid?" His student was on his left in the middle. It was kind of weird how he stared at the wall; probably the calendar because from what Mr. Simmons overheard in the halls, Sid had made Arnold a cupcake yesterday for his birthday. He turned his head to the front. "Oh here I am Mr. Simmons..." he chuckled at being caught.

"Nadine?" She was over by the window staring down at a clear (and fortunately concealed) container of caterpillars. The girl wanted to sit where the sunlight would help her bugs. Mr. Simmons allowed that she could in fact bring her bugs to class. But the one rule he gave her was that she had to be very careful to not lose them. Nadine, who was still staring down at her insects, replied, "Here I am Mr. Simmons."

"Phoebe?" Robert grinned a bit at his intelligent student. She was always eager to participate in class. But he found it odd, as he took a good look at her, that Phoebe was leaning forward and staring at the door. She appeared anxious and worried about something. Mr. Simmons walked forward and laid a hand on her desk. "Phoebe?" He started to notice that other students were turning their attention to her. Suddenly her head shook as she stared up at him. "Y-yes Mr. Simmons?" He frowned in concern. "Are you ok? You seem upset." He could see her looking down and she quietly answered. "No, there's nothing wrong Mr. Simmons. I just didn't get much sleep last night." He wasn't going to take what she answered as the truth, but he respected her judgment. If there was something wrong she'd tell him eventually. Stepping back to his desk, "Well, that's quite alright, as long as you're ok."She didn't say anything else.

"Um, ok, where was I?" He stared down at the paper, losing his place with the sudden confusion. Scrolling up the list he found where he left off. "Eugene?" Eugene was sitting by Sheena, obviously unaware of what went on a few minutes ago because he must have been talking to her. With a cast on his leg from another bicycle accident yesterday after school, it seemed that Sheena had offered to take care of him again. The boy waved. "Hi Mr. Simmons! Sorry I broke my leg again." His grin was from ear to ear. It amazed him that Eugene could seemingly handle any injury apparently. "It's quite alright Eugene," the teacher replied happily in return.

"Gerald?" Gerald was also in the front row, leaning back in his chair. He looked pretty relaxed today with his eyes closed. "Here I am Mr. Simmons. How ya doing?" He smirked a little, which didn't go unnoticed. He popped a piece a bubblegum into his mouth that he must have stashed in his red sweatshirt. "I'm fine Gerald. But could you please throw out your gum? And also leave the rest of it on my desk. You can have it after class is over." The class laughed for a minute as Gerald grumbled his way over to the trash can and back (but not before laying his classroom snack on the teacher's desk).

Luckily, it stopped when he sat down. Mr. Simmons shook his head and sighed. "Ok, um Rhonda. I see you, "and stopping to check that Curly was still staring at her, "Do you want me to switch your seat with someone else after school?" She was sinking into her desk as she shouted a little, "Yes! Get him away from me! Please!" Rhonda was quite upset over her dilemma. But apparently Curly kept on passing her air kisses. In most cases Mr. Simmons would have thought it was sweet that the boy cared about her so much. But he understood why Rhonda would be upset. "Um, yes. Curly please leave Rhonda alone."

"Why bother Simmons? He's just going to do it again anyway."

The door slammed shut, having the teacher turn to her. Mr. Simmons heard his students all gasp at who had entered the classroom obviously late. He smiled in understanding. Helga sometimes would be late to class because of the things that went on at her home. Her parents weren't that easy to deal with. So within reason, he would let it slide. Especially today, with the way her classmates kept staring at her, because she looked somewhat different. It was a good kind of different that made Mr. Simmons both smile and feel puzzled at the same time.

Ever since Mr. Simmons had started to teach her, Helga never had put her hair in a ponytail before – and not wearing her bow no less. Those were a couple of things that made her special to everyone. She arched a brow. "What? What are you staring at you chuckleheads?" Stinky had raised his hand. "Why does your hair look all different?" The other students were murmuring the same thing.

Helga walked over to her desk by the boy and set her books on the surface. "Because you morons, I sleep with my hair down and the next thing I'm missing my stupid bow and one of my hair ties in the morning! Sheesh! what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" No one bothered to even try and answer obviously not wanting to anger her. Sitting down finally, Helga kicked her bag under her chair. She shrugged. "Anyway, it seems I made it in time for roll call Mr. Simmons. Are you going to give me a tardy or what?" She also leaned back in her chair like Gerald did a few minutes ago.

He stammered, but still grinning no less. "Yes, unfortunately I will. But I'm very glad you came today because," after noticing that Stinky, Lila, and Arnold were all present as well, "it seems that everyone is here today and we all are doing something different. And I think your hair looks nice today Helga." The girl hardly received any compliments from him other than her writing. Helga was a very gifted writer with a passionate heart the way she formed her words. Just another thing he enjoyed about teaching students – he got to learn so much about all of them.

Helga blushed slightly, but not enough for everyone to notice. "Yeah, well…what are you going on about today for? Aren't we having another standard school day or are we all going to have a school carnival day again?" This got the other students cheering as she smirked. Mr. Simmons narrowed his eyes at the blonde, knowing that she did this on purpose. He knew he had to shout now before they all ran for the door.

"No, we are not having a school carnival day!" And even though there were few that he could actually hear, there were a series of complaints in the classroom. "Instead," he lowered his voice as the class calmed down with grumbles, "we will only have three classes today! Isn't that great everyone?"

There was silence – enough to hear a cricket chirp. And the students' faces were indifferent as they were all staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

Robert pulled at his green sweater, feeling hot even in the cold air. "Yes, well." He went back to the chalk board to write down the schedule. And this entire time he spoke, "We will have no science, history, or math courses today. The school had decided to do a test run for a "block schedule". This means that," the chalk squeaked a bit on the board, "we will only have certain classes a day and tomorrow we'll have the classes we didn't have today. The school thought it would help you feel less stressed with schoolwork if you had two nights to work on it instead of one. Grades have been slipping in some classes, so they want to see if stress has anything to do with it." He set down the chalk and turned to the students while pointing to the day's plans.

"First, we will have Music class, then Art, and finally English. In Music," his smile widened at what would happen, "you all will practice one of your three songs that were given to you by the type of music. Now, no one has known what kind of music you were given or what lyrics you have. So I think it will be very interesting and special to hear your pieces."

Harold banged his fist on his desk. "Aw man! That was due today! I don't want to perform in front of everybody! I don't even know how to sing right!" Mr. Simmons still smiled nonetheless. He clapped his hands together. "Well, Harold, I know that I said that classes will be longer than normal but-"

"But what? I stink and we all know it!" Helga smirked. She murmured, "Got that right Pink Boy!" The teacher narrowed his eyes again. "Helga…" The girl still was leaning back in her seat. Her hands lifted in question. "What?" she asked innocently," I was just making an observation." Not all of the others laughed again, but still….

"Well Helga, do you want to go first to present what you had been working on all year so far? Because I'll be happy to let you do it."

The class was silent as they watched the girl turn red in the face. Mr. Simmons wouldn't stoop to this level normally. But in truth he had wanted her to go first. Helga, from what he knew of her, wrote amazing poetry, could obviously act well on stage, and even directed a play before he starting teaching at P.S. 118! She would be a great example for the rest of the class. And it might also help her feel more comfortable.

Her head was still in shock at his suggestion. "What, what? No. No. Why-why would I want to? Can't someone else go?" She kept shaking her head as confirmation that she didn't want to do it. "Why not Harold or Gerald? I mean Pink Boy deserves punishment for not-not finishing it and admitting it before class started and Tall Hair Boy already has-has a decent voice. Why not let them do it?" She balanced her chair upright to prevent her from falling over.

Gerald turned his attention to the blonde as he spoke. "Yeah well, Helga, why are you so scared? Do you have a bad voice or something? I mean you'll only be performing for a few minutes. And you wouldn't mind it if you had some singing talent." He wiggled his eye brows as Mr. Simmons himself started to sweat drop. "Students settle down." Robert knew things were only going to get worse if Helga was provoked in any way. Sad to say, his attempt had been too quiet for Helga's questioning.

"Who says I can't sing Tall Hair Boy!" she stood up and pointed a finger at him, "I bet I can sing better than all of you weirdos!" She glared at him menacingly.

After that, it was a lost fight for Mr. Simmons. At this rate he knew that all of them would go to the auditorium. _"Why fight it? At least we'll get there on time."_

"I'd pay fifty cents - no a dollar to see that happen!" Harold shouted. But Curly stood on his desk. "We'll I'll bet two dollars out of my allowance to see that Helga can sing! Hahaha!"

"Who in the world would give you allowance Curly? The zoo keeper?" Sid asked with a laugh.

"Aw, pipe down you nimrods! Let's just get to the auditorium to prove to you all that I am the best!" Helga raced with Gerald and Harold as everyone else walked out the door.

Mr. Simmons was about to follow them out with his briefcase in hand when he glanced and saw that Phoebe was standing at her desk. He set his stuff down by the doorway and went to the girl. "Phoebe?" It looked like she was biting her lip as she would not look up at him. She quietly squeaked, "Yes, Mr. Simmons?" She sounded unsure too, like she didn't want to go to class to support Helga. They were best friends, so this confused him a bit at why she wasn't following the rest of her classmates. He kneeled down to her level and lifted her chin. There were tears in her eyes that just wanted to run down her face. "Phoebe, is there anything wrong?" He spoke carefully, not wanting to hurt the poor girl.

"Well, um," she started, "It's just that, well, Helga wasn't having a good day yesterday because of a surprise appointment with a doctor. I wanted, I wanted to ask her but she hasn't told me yet what's going on. I was worried. But, but with the way she's acting today, I'm happy that she seems to be doing well. So I guess that I must have gotten a little teary eyed huh?" She giggled, making it sound easy. He patted her on the shoulder with a smile. "So I guess you're ok now? That was what's been bothering you?" He was glad she opened up to him. It just made him as a teacher feel very special.

"Yes. Now let's go support everyone. I'm sure that all of them will need it Mr. Simmons, since like you said we want it to be special."

He smiled. "Yes, Phoebe. I think today will be very special." Mr. Simmons stood up on his feet as Phoebe made her way to the door. And he followed behind with good thoughts all the way to the rest of his students.

"_Well, this day should have been on the documentary. That's for sure. And it's only the beginning too."_


	10. Arnold

"Well this day is getting more interesting man," Gerald chuckled as he knotted his hands in his red sweatshirt. It apparently was something that his mother had given him for the new-coming chilly weather that October always brings. And, best of all – it had his signature 33 on the front. Somehow Arnold couldn't really see his best friend without that number (except for their sleepovers and special occasions). But he shook his head from thinking about the trademark as they walked to the auditorium with the class.

"What do you mean?" The blonde was curious because he wasn't paying attention throughout the day already. All he could think about was the blue spiral notebook that he held in his hands that he refused to let go of. There was just this sudden, yet small, fear that he could lose it before English – which he really needed it. There were about five to six pages written on both the fronts and backs of each paper! Desperate as it seemed, he had to try and win the writing competition. This was truly a gift for this kind of opportunity. If he did win, he'd be happy for the chance. If he did go to San Lorenzo and find answers he'd be thankful.

If he found his parents and they were alive…Well he wasn't quite sure on how to take it. If this really did happen, he knew that he would have to go against his grandpa's wishes of keeping the journal at the boarding house. He needed it because it was the only way. But he put aside his thoughts for the time being.

Gerald shrugged with a smirk as he stared ahead like he really was Pop Daddy himself. "So far, you have this awesome essay that you've pretty much already written completely," his eyes shifted down at Arnold, "We only have the easy classes today, and now we get to watch Helga screw up at singing! Hmmm, hmmm, hmm!" His head leaned back laughing.

The funny thing was Arnold wanted to laugh too. It was very unlikely that Helga ever possessed any real talent in the arts. Yeah, Helga had some gifts, but they were mainly athletic in football and baseball. And there were moments that she was showed she was intelligent in class. Plus, he thought her new hairstyle (even though it was most likely temporary), was kind of nice. He only chortled quietly and looked away. "Haha, yeah." He didn't want to think about her badly, but that thought of her actually singing any words was entertaining.

Then, because he and Gerald were facing different directions, Harold's grunts surprised them. It sounded like it was around the right corner to the theater. "Wow," as they ran down the hall, "I guess we were that far behind huh?" His heart pounded and he had to breathe through his mouth a bit since it was a long hallway, but still. _"Could it be any closer?" _His hands wrapped the book around his chest. Gerald didn't respond. He only nodded as they could see their larger classmate push the door that wouldn't open.

The others were behind Harold. Well, all except Helga of course. She kept shaking her head side to side as she stood next to him. "Move it Pink Boy!" She shoved him to the right as he crashed landed into the wall and fell on the floor. Even with her hair practically down her back she still was menacing as usual. Arnold and Gerald slowed down a few feet away behind Eugene and Sid at the back. Gerald shouted, which kind of hurt the boy's ears. "Hey Helga, what are you? The hulk?"

"Ow! Come on Helga," he shoved the rubber snake into his pocket and glared at her, "What the heck did I do?" Harold continued to rub the back of his head with his other hand while Helga turned to him and Gerald. Arnold stared down for a second and gulped. Her fists were clenched. Sweat started to drip his face. She was not happy. Not good. He looked up at her. "First of all Hair Boy, the idiot over there needed to learn a lesson he should have known for the past few years," Helga glimpsed at the boy now standing beside her, "It's called Pull and Push." She emphasized her point. Arnold's eyes narrowed. The way she handled her problems….

He stepped forward in front of the rest. "Yeah Helga, why didn't you just tell Harold to pull the door open?" He crossed arms, waiting for an answer. He didn't really believe that he'd get much out of her, because he tried so many times before, and she never let up often. If she did, she'd cover up her ego the next day as if what happened between the two of them never occurred. Arnold never understood why she did that.

And honestly he didn't really care. This was a day by day thing, but the writing contest was still on his mind. That and helping Harold of course.

She crossed her arms too as the other students only cared to get inside. An argument between him and Helga was nothing new. But, obviously, seeing Helga perform was interesting. Curly, pulling the other door and running in wildly, "Come on! This is crazy! Let's just see Helga sing! We all have bets, so just shut up already!" His footsteps could be heard going down as he went for the stage.

But as everyone else followed (even Gerald who seemed to not want to be a part of this and Arnold understood why of course), Arnold ran quickly to stop Helga from getting inside. He wanted an answered. Why was her normal behavior still a mystery after so long? He wasn't sure. However, his determination was strong as he held the sides of the door with his hands. Arnold frowned in her direction. And Helga's eyebrow creased when she turned and saw him standing there in shock. "_She must have not noticed that the others moved, even myself. But how couldn't she?" _It didn't make much sense.

Here she and he were. Arnold was actually stopping Helga G. Pataki! He could feel the sneer grow on his face the longer she stared at him for a minute or so. There seemed to be confusion…and fear. It was short lived, however with a slow grin forming, when her eyes looked beside him. Confused by her sudden attention, he too glanced to his left. His gaze too was wide. _"Man, I forgot about the other door!"_

"Oh, there you guys are!" Arnold instantly dropped his arms as both he and Helga saw Mr. Simmons with his briefcase and Phoebe walk to them. Their teacher was behind the girl, who seemed to have red eyes. She sniffled. It was clear that she was crying. The boy started to reach out with his hand, wondering what was wrong. But no words could come out. He'd never seen Phoebe cry before. She was either calm and collected…or as rash and defensive as Helga. Mr. Simmons patted her shoulder as he walked to the door.

"Come in with me Arnold," he spoke quietly as he went in leaving him more confused as his lowered his hand. He carelessly walked backwards into the room for the first few steps as the door slowly shut. The last thing he saw was Helga and Phoebe having some sort of moment. They really were best friends. _"It seems rare that friends can talk without words."_

Helga walked to her friend as the other shed a few more tears. Truthfully, Arnold was convinced that he should go out and help. But something held him back. "Wait a minute; Phoebe was upset when Helga didn't show up just yet," he thought as he turned to the stage, "I guess it couldn't hurt to stay out of this one." And to think a few minutes ago, he wanted to go all Bruce Lee on her (well almost). He smiled at the caring friendship those two had.

The auditorium was actually a lot darker than how it was normally during their other classes. It must have been set at its' performing lighting with there being a spotlight. He made his way up on the stage along with the others – who were all just as confused as he was even with Mr. Simmons in the room. The floor creaked and curtains were dusty. It almost reminded Arnold of the Circle Theater that was almost knocked down last year. Only there were rows of seats instead of tables and chairs. Their choir stands weren't there since it would be single performances. But the piano was now off to the right side instead of on the floor.

Everyone was talking in circles as they randomly walked across the stage, so nothing could really be heard but rambles. But that didn't stop Curly, as usual.

"Where are we supposed to sit? On the floor? I'd rather die! It's so disgusting!" Rhonda wailed with her eyes shut. Arnold chuckled as he saw Curly make his move on her, trying to guide her to the seats in front. He had his hands behind her back. "Come on my princess, let us sit down together as we watch Helga make a fool out of herself. At least, even if it is dark, that the school would keep the seats clean. And we'd get to sit next to each other."

She pulled and ran down the steps to a seat close to Gerald in the center section. _"He must have been waiting for me."_ Arnold smiled as he went to sit next to him. His friend saw him and put his thumb out for Arnold. He gave the thumb back himself as they gave their secret handshake instead of talking. Hearing everyone else talk was more entertaining than any conversation Helga-related (since he stayed back to try and talk to her). Scooting around Gerald, he took a place to his left.

"Ewww… Get away from me Curly! You are so gross! Nadine!" The girl continued to shout for her friend. Luckily, Nadine had heard her and went to the seats as well to help her calm down from one of Rhonda's "Curly raids". As she ran passed their teacher, he frowned and looked to the stage. "Curly," he scolded, "I told you to stop bothering Rhonda. I'm sorry but I'll have to give you a detention." He set down his case on the desk in front of the stage.

Curly jumped off and almost landed in front of Eugene (who couldn't go and perform today with his injury with a sad face) and Sheena who was trying to console him. "Ah Eugene it's-" He almost flew back from the unexpected of their classmate. Sheena shrieked, "Curly! Don't do that to Eugene! He's too hurt to get hurt again!" He kept on trying to breathe evenly until he was able to wheeze out "I'm ok."

Gerald whispered to Arnold. "Wow, I never thought Sheena would be that mad at anyone ever! She hates violence almost as much as you do man." Wow, Arnold never thought about that before. He's seen her in school helping out Eugene because it was obvious that she like-likes him so much. And she did seem to be that sort of person who likes to help and not hate. _"I wonder why I don't talk to her more often. She pretty much just hangs out with Eugene. Even though she has the rest of us, how well do we really know her?" _Arnold had to admit that it would be nice to have a better friendship with Sheena.

"Well, I'm sorry Sheena," as Curly bowed, "But I'd rather have my last leap before I'm pummeled into oblivion."

Mr. Simmons stared at Curly from the table. "Curly, I assure you that detention won't kill you." He shook his head as he turned back to the papers and switched on a small lamplight.

The boy walked up to him as the others slowly gathered back to the floor and to the other seats asking for a show. Curly vs. the Teacher. _"That would be a good Wrestlmania episode. In speaking of which -" _Arnold laughed a bit for no reason, especially wondering where Helga and Phoebe were. Harold, Stinky, and Sid tapped him on the shoulder in confusion. Even Gerald had to give the blonde an arm-nudge. "Hey, Arnold? Are you ok man?"

He started to calm down, a bit. Eyes half lidded, he turned to his best friend, and ignoring the other three boys, with a light blush on his face. He ran his fingers along the notebook spiral. "Oh, I'm sorry Gerald," Arnold smiled, "I'm fine. I was just wondering-"

"Well I don't care! I'm not doing it!"

"Please Helga! You were going to do it anyway! Even Mr. Simmons wants you do it!"

"Yes Helga. I'm ever so sure everyone else would love for you to perform." She and Phoebe sat in the back row, probably to help Helga when she left.

"Yeah! Only to make stupid bets on me. Please!" Helga turned her back (since she was walking backwards).

Everyone, including Arnold, turned to see Helga stomping down the aisle of the auditorium. But there was something different about her. Her hair was still in its ponytail, but…

"Wow Helga, what got you? The Rhonda bug? Hahaha!" Harold laughed as she scowled back. And it was true, as his dim blush stayed on. He could feel that his face was warm, but he dismissed it to being the fact that there wasn't any air conditioning.

But no one could stop staring at her. In a deep navy tank top with silver mini jewels, a pink leather jacket, and black dress pants, the Helga on the outside was no more – at least to Arnold. _"I never knew that she could look that nice."_ The Helga on the inside was something else however.

His hand unconsciously grabbed the book tighter in his lap.

"Watch it Pink Boy! I have not nor will ever be like Rhonda-loid over there. " She rolled her eyes as she stood by the stairs tapping her foot at Mr. Simmons. He was sitting at the desk checking on some paper work. She knew that he would let them figure it out when they got out of his control this year. However, she still had to ask.

"Hey, Mr. Simmons?" Setting down his pen on the stack, he looked up and smiled. "Yes Helga?" He folded his hands. She sighed. "Well, before these idiots get really out of control with making their stupid pointless bets, I would like to get this over with." She pointed to the piano. Arnold, as he stared, everyone else was quiet all of a sudden.

All bets had been made and now the time had come to see who won and who lost. Arnold was just naturally curious, especially when he could see his teacher's posture change in a good way. He was just as excited as the rest of them. "Ah, yes you can go first. I think you would be a good example for the class."

"That's if she doesn't blow off our hearing!" shouted Sid.

None the less, no one talked. Even Harold hushed him from behind Arnold's head. Harold –_ Harold_ telling someone to be quiet? _"He must have bet more money than I thought."_

They all watched, he stared, as she walked to the table. The light reflected her actually soft features, playing with her pale skin and blonde hair. The boy was almost, almost half lidded. Mr. Simmons had simply handed over the sheet of music and a CD. "Now, Helga, you'll be doing a pop song. And I understand why you are allowed to use the piano. But you really made a CD of music as well? Wouldn't that be a problem?" He asked warily.

Helga stepped back and up the steps as she yelled, concealed by darkness as she set up the CD by the piano. "Yeah, yeah. It'll be fine! Hey Brainy! Move the lighting over here! I can't play if I don't have light!"

Brainy, having no desire to say anything let alone wanting to sing, had opted to choose controlling the lights instead. Without warning, the lights all were off with the exception of the spotlight and Mr. Simmons desk.

They were all in the attendance of a Helga G. Pataki concert.

He gulped as she sat down, the hand almost crushing the notebook as the jewels from her shirt sparkled. He whispered to Gerald. "Any bets?" His friend smiled and whispered back. "All bets with Harold are made with five dollars. Unless you wanna?" He smirked.

Arnold shook his head. "I'd rather stay out thanks."

Helga pulled the sheet from the top of the piano and set in front of her. After pulling out the attached microphone so her voice could be heard, her left hand reached down and pressed the play button on the CD player. It stayed silent for a moment as she let her fingers gracefully touch the keys.

Little ticks could be heard from the player.

"_You gave my back shirt back, I don't really get the meaning  
It's like you're givin' up before it all goes wrong  
I've been told, I don't really like the feeling  
I've been away, I've been away too long  
I wanna go wherever you are, I wanna be wherever you  
I wanna sleep wherever you are"_

Her voice was so soft, so incredibly soft that his jaw dropped a bit. Not as much as everyone else though. Helga could actually sing like this?

_"You said love, is a fragile thing, made of glass_  
_But I think you're heart is a muscle_  
_You're heart is a muscle_  
_You gotta work it out_  
_Make it stronger_  
_Try for me, just a little longer_  
_Your heart is a muscle, your heart is a muscle"_

She put so much strength in her voice, so much beauty. It was almost as if she was speaking these words from the heart – even though the song was assigned. Even the CD seemed to have recorded by her.

_"Your heart is a muscle_  
_Your heart is a muscle"_

She leaned in closer to the piano, almost hesitantly as she looked at everyone - but him. He could tell somehow that she wasn't feeling alright up there.

_"If I can turn this plane around_  
_I'd fly to where you are right now_  
_Write your name into the sky_  
_Hope that it'll light up your eyes"_

"_She really sounds like she means something more."_ He thought. Although nothing came to mind.

_"We can move, or spend the night alone together_  
_You're real good listening, but you don't have much to say_  
_Wake up you you won't pick up the phone whatever_  
_You're probably sleeping, I hope you're still ok"_

She hid her face, not facing everyone all together.

_"I wanna go wherever you are, I wanna be wherever you_  
_I wanna sleep wherever you are"_

She was gentle and he just let her sing. _"She's really being herself right now. Why can't she show this side to her?" _He smiled.

_"You said love is a fragile thing, made of glass  
But I think your heart is a muscle  
Your heart is a muscle  
You gotta work it out  
Make it stronger  
Try for me, just a little longer  
Your heart is a muscle, you're heart is a muscle"_

_"Your heart is a muscle_  
_Your heart is a muscle"_

_"If I can turn this plane around_  
_I'd fly to where you are right now_  
_Write your name into the sky_  
_Hope that it'll light up your eyes"_

_"If I can turn this plane around_  
_I'd fly to where you are right now_  
_Write your name into the sky_  
_Hope that it'll light up your eyes"_

It took a strong turn, and her beautiful voice slowed down.

_"You said love is a fragile thing, made of glass  
But I think your heart is a muscle  
Your heart is a muscle  
You gotta work it out  
Make it stronger  
Try for me, just a little longer  
Your heart is a muscle, your heart is a muscle"_

_"Your heart is a muscle_  
_Your heart is a muscle"_

_"If I can turn this plane around_  
_I'd fly to where you are right now_  
_Write your name into the sky_  
_Hope that it'll light up your eyes"_

He, Mr. Simmons, Lila, and Phoebe were the only ones who clapped. And even though everyone was in shock by what she had done, he wasn't. She had talent.

Helga pushed herself out of the bench and stood up with a blush. "Uh, thanks I guess." She actually smiled a little at them, making Arnold happier.

But unexpectedly, as she faced him, she panicked. Stepping back, she gathered the sheets of music and brought it down to the front desk. "Here you go Mr. Simmons. Can," she stuttered, "can I go to the nurse's office? All of that singing in, in the spotlight made me a little dizzy and dehydrated." She laughed a bit.

He was suspicious, but let it slide in understanding. Even Arnold knew Helga went beyond her comfort zone for now. "Um sure Helga. Go ahead. "

She didn't say anything as she went up the aisle with Lila and Phoebe behind her. And no one said anything else. That was until…

"Hey you chuckleheads! Give each other the money you bet to each other already! Sheesh! This silence is driving me crazy!" And then she left with the other two.

Arnold shook his head. _"Whatever you say Helga."_

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE SONG. "YOU'RE HEART IS A MUSCLE" GOES TO CARLY RAE JEPSEN. AND IN CASE IF I HADN'T SAID IT YET – I DON'T OWN HEY ARNOLD!


	11. Brainy

There was no more music as he flicked the lights back on and the spotlight off. He could see from the new balcony in the middle of the auditorium that Helga was storming out of the room with Lila and Phoebe behind as it seemed that she had made some sort of excuse to go the nurse. Amongst the rest of the class, there were shouts on who betted right and wrong – although no one really had won in the first place. They all betted that Helga was indeed a horrible singer.

But Brainy knew that she could perform. It had always been a gift of hers. She had directed the Food Groups play, starred in the school's Romeo and Juliet, done standup comedy, and unknowingly to everyone else – he saw the Babewatch episode she and Arnold had been casted in. Plus, he had always heard her monologues about his classmate. Helga had talents that many people didn't have. Anyone could see that she didn't show off them like others would.

That was what made him sort of upset with his other classmates.

He kept frowning as he went about the area fixing all of the lights until he heard them coming closer to the door – most likely leaving. Music class should have gone on longer. On the other hand, and he could see Mr. Simmons too had realized it, that once Helga was done on stage, she would have blown them away into oblivion and out the exit. As he was about done adjusting the spotlight, he heard his teacher. He glanced down to the floor.

"Brainy, once you are done with the lights, we'll be in the art room on the third floor! Thank you for helping us out today! " He had his briefcase in one hand as the other waved with a smile on his face. The boy let go of the fixture with his right hand and gave him a thumbs up as a way of responding. That alone made Mr. Simmons happy since he knew that Brainy didn't talk much. So he continued to walk out the door leaving the blonde alone.

He was still angry though as he finished, a deeper frown as he gathered some cords and put them out of the way so there would be no tripping.

Ever since preschool, he knew of Helga's feelings for Arnold. In any case, it seemed that was the trait about her that he most liked and appreciated her for. Not everyone could claim that they were in love and actually mean it at their age. It was mostly "I like-like him or her." But never love. He had heard enough of her affection from her secret moments that she meant it.

But it pained him to see that she had no choice but to do that – hide away. Arnold was a good classmate and probably the most understanding one at that. If anything, he should be the one that would most likely have feelings for her because he too knew that Helga was more than she seemed to be on the outside.

The balcony was tall and rickety, so Brainy knew he had to finish up for the day. It was made out of three levels of wooden floorboards, some black piping to hold it up with screws, and with a ladder on the side. He had left his books down at the bottom so that he wouldn't have to carry them up. There was already enough strain since he had very little muscle to even lift himself up and down. So he climbed over the side and descended down the steps.

Helga was a good person and he considered her to be a friend, sometimes more. But he was never sure entirely. On the one hand Brainy understood that she loved another person, and he respected that. However, Arnold was very dense and when he liked girls it never lasted that long. Plus, they have different ways of going about life. And it would hurt Helga in the process if her love didn't understand how she would like to live. And, well, he wanted to protect her from that.

Landing on his feet and grabbing his dusty English books on the floor, he headed upstairs. Pushing his way through the door, he could see that the yellow hallways were empty as he walked. Fortunately the stairs were just ahead on the right and around the left corner from there. His steps were light and he liked it that way. He didn't care if he wasn't noticed. If anything he felt as secretive as "Anonymous", or otherwise Helga. He made to the stairs as he continued his train of thought.

She had put so much effort into making all of these Arnold-themed projects, from her poems to her locket. There was no denying, even to him, that he had just about as much of an obsession with her as she did with Arnold.

Now, as he shook his head with a smile (and still wheezing), he went into the third floor hallway, legs still feeling sore from the ladder and the stairs.

But with all of Helga's hard work, and if Arnold just dumped her flat, then she would have wasted her time on someone who could never care for her in that way. And that was where he wanted to protect her and encase her in a world of happiness even if it wasn't perfect. But that was where Helga was mistaken. From hearing her monologues over the years, Brainy had come to the conclusion that she thought Arnold was perfect in every single way.

And that was what love would do to a person. Even with all of the mistakes Arnold had made, she still loved him – another reason why Brainy saw her as a friend. Even with all of her punches too.

So yes, he was confused. He accepted her love for another person, making it more of a friendly matter. But if he hurt her, well the wheezing boy wouldn't have her suffer for very long. Helga hid her emotions well from the world. If she acted fine on the outside, and it didn't seem right to him it was obviously because she was hurt.

Possibly, he saw her as more of a sister than anything else. He wanted to be her friend, and wouldn't mind it if she talked face to face with him about Arnold or any other guy that she may come to love in the future. But he was protective. So that had to count as being a brotherly figure.

Still, there was no one in the halls and no sounds except for the random teacher lecturing in classrooms and students talking when there was nothing else to do. Unfortunately, the art room was at the end of the hall on the right next to one of the other staircases. Brainy, grabbing a tighter hold of his books, continued to walk until he passed by the girls' restroom on his left.

He could hear distinct shouts and sobs, surprisingly it sounded like Helga. She never cried, at least not over anything he could think of – except Arnold. It also sounded like Phoebe and Lila were in there too. He frowned again. Looking left to right, he moved down the hallway a bit more (but not enough distance to where he couldn't hear her) and sat down in front of another fifth grade class's lockers and pulled out his English book pretending to read in the hallway as a punishment for misbehaving.

Maybe he could get questioned. But he never talked so why would it matter? He wheezed silently so that he could hear.

"Why? How could have I been so stupid?"

"You're not stupid Helga. You were given the song and had to perform it eventually," Phoebe replied.

"Yeah," she sniffled, "But I should have done another one though. It wasn't right since I'm trying to get over Arnold now. What if someone finds out? I mean, I did go to all of that effort to impress Arnold in the first place!"

Wait a minute. Brainy actually stopped wheezing and stared at the door in shock. Helga was getting over Arnold?

"Helga, I'm ever so sure that no one figured it out. They were all ever so amazed at your singing that I don't think they knew that it was meant to be for Arnold."

"Lila's right Helga. Even if Arnold ever learned that it was meant for him then I'm sure he wouldn't criticize you for it either."

"How do you know huh? Pheebs, he rejected me remember? On the FTi building? Hello! He's already done enough. That's why I don't want to deal with him anymore."

He put the book beside him as his hands turned to fists. He knew his protective self was coming out – and he felt the new anger rise in his throat. Arnold rejected Helga!

"No, no Helga. You're obviously still ever so in love with him. And if it was, as you stated, a "heat of the moment" scenario, then maybe Arnold's just confused about how he feels."

"Yeah right! I did a one-eighty on him Ms. Perfect! Who could ever fall in love with someone who tormented them for most of their life?" There was a sadness in her voice as it was clear to Brainy that she was crying harder now.

"Well, if you apologized -" Helga's feet stomped back and forth in the stalls.

"I have tried Phoebe! Several times! Remember the magic show he did and I went missing? Well I realized that I shouldn't have been so hard on you guys and started to tell you how sorry I was. But then Sid called out for intermission right in the middle of my speech! And there were so many other times than that. The truth is, I'm not meant to be forgiven for anything. It's, it's my entire fault."

"No it is not Helga." Lila sounded like she was trying to reason with her.

"Yes it is! You guys don't understand that! I mean, Lila you are always nice and considerate and everyone likes you. And Phoebe, you're smart and a good person, and you help other people. It's no wonder why no one hates you. As for me, well I – I just don't deserve it alright!"

His eyes shot wide open in both shock and sadness, but his fists unraveled.

"Oh Helga. Is that why?"

"Why what Princess?"

"Why you don't think you can be your nice self in front of other people? And why you don't deserve Arnold's love?"

"No one can see beyond my past actions besides you three, but I can't let Arnold into my life anymore. I mean, I'm already a mess. He's too good of a person to pull him into my web of crap."

"But Helga, what about the plan for Arnold to win? What if he finds out you wrote the essay? That is if you still want to."

Wait a minute. What did Phoebe just say? Brainy started to stand and walked closer to the stairwell where he just climbed moments ago. It seemed like the conversation was going to take a drastic turn for the worst. And if Helga found out he was eavesdropping on them – he gulped.

"What do you mean if I don't want to Phoebe? Of course I do! I love the boy after all!"

"We know about that. But if he does find out-"

"He won't find out Lila. Remember, I told you guys this. Look, it's not going to be easy on me and I appreciate you guys caring so much. Believe me. But I can't have you guys swaying my mind about if I should have feelings for him anymore. Just, accept the fact that I'm done, I'm rewriting the essay as an anonymous thank you to him, and we go to San Lorenzo if he wins to find his parents. That's all."

"But Helga-"

"Let's get to art class you guys before Mr. Simmons gets suspicious ok?"

The door opened revealing the three girls. They didn't look in his direction as they made their left down the hall. Helga was walking ahead, and even though he couldn't be sure, it briefly looked like her eyes were red from tears (which he knew that she would say it was from exhaustion if anyone asked). And Lila and Phoebe were right behind her, giving sad glances at her and each other.

Brainy continued to stare as they went inside the art room. He just couldn't believe it. Helga was actually giving up on Arnold? And it seemed like he rejected her? Even though Lila did say it was most likely in the heat of the moment, still his heart went out to Helga. But she was still going to help Arnold – find his parents? What did San Lorenzo have anything to do with Arnold's parents?

Either way, she was devastated. And she could only hide herself more. Brainy couldn't believe that Helga would go to such selfless lengths at helping someone she loved – and she never would get the credit. She never truly got the credit she deserved for some things that she had done.

Fists tightened around his books, Brainy made his way down the hall, almost stomping himself. He could hear some doors opening as the occasional classroom would notice him. But he didn't care in the least. Although he knew that he couldn't change her mind, he was going to do something that would make her feel better. And he knew just what it was too.

After all, he spent years of watching her in secret – including seeing some of her pieces that weren't Arnold-related that no one noticed.

Finally, he just made it into the art room. Purple walls, low bright lighting, and green tiled floors with wooden tables – it was a mess all over the place. As they all were kids so it was only natural that the room didn't look at its' best. But at least the good news was that Brainy sat at the other end of the long table from the three girls. That meant that he could keep an eye on Helga.

Mr. Simmons was helping Harold out of some sticky glue that had got all over his hands from squeezing too hard on the bottle. Brainy wanted to just sit down, but he had to let him know that he was here. He walked over and tapped him on the shoulder wheezing as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Like Helga, he too could act very well in moments of crisis.

"Oh hold on Harold," at the feeling of the boy tapping him. The man turned his neck and looked down as Brainy waved his hand quietly. "Uhhh," he wheezed again, "I'm here." Mr. Simmons smiled as he went back to the gluey hands. "Hi Brainy! Glad you're back! You can go back to working on your special project."

He just shrugged and made his way over to the table, passing by a student or two that were in his way. As he went closer to his seat, he didn't look it, but he was glaring at Arnold. He happened to be sitting next to Gerald over at the table beside his. He knew that he wasn't entirely sure, but if what Helga did say was true, that he did reject her.

All of the paints, crayons, and colored paper were in front of him as he sat down in his squeaky chair. The sound made the others around him cringe including Helga. She stared at him.

"Crimeny Brainy! Why don't you just sit on the table! At least we won't have to mess up on our projects because of some stupid distraction!"

"Helga." Arnold scolded, as if to tell her off.

Helga just ignored him. She went on with her work as Arnold went back to his sculpture of a baseball. Brainy had to admit it was good. It was orange with blue stitches made of modeling clay on it. And in scribbled handwriting it said "Mickey Kaline" on the front. He followed his eyes back to Helga, Phoebe, and Lila.

Phoebe was working on her new appreciation for her culture – origami. It was apparently a cherry blossom in pink paper and had red paint on it for detail. At the same time Lila was working on a knitting project of some sort. It was too early to tell what it would be, but it had a nice purple yarn.

However, Helga's art project was concealed (which wasn't surprising). He arched an eyebrow as he turned his attention back and forth from the supplies on his desk to her. Listening to muttered scrapes, he saw her use a red tool - probably the length of a paint brush. He had finished his painting of a vase in the classroom last week. Right now, Brainy couldn't think of what he wanted to do. His hand held his skull as he stared at the girl.

Another scrape.

Somehow wheezing and sighing at the same time, he stood up and walked by the two girls and turned to Helga at the end of the table. She was using some sort of material that he hadn't seen before in the room. It was black on top and white on the bottom. And she was taking away the black to show some picture of a Nancy Spumoni Snow Boot. Her hands were moving so swift with small details. It looked so real…it was unbelievable that a fifth grader, let alone Helga, had this kind of skill! It was the kind of artwork that was beyond any expectations.

Her gaze was so fixed on her project that she didn't notice that he was there, breathing. Lila stared up at him before turning to Helga. "Umm, Helga?" She was still focused, working on the heel of the boot. She mumbled, "What is it?" Her ponytail was hanging over her shoulder. The red haired girl reached out and touched her hand causing her to see him when she straightened back into her chair.

She scowled with her arms crossed after she set aside her tools. "What do you want?"

Brainy wheezed with some nervousness. He had to do this. She needed a genuine compliment, especially one that didn't involve any sort of bets or other painful confusion.

"Uhhh…what material…are you….using?" he asked.

Even Helga's eyebrow rose at him. "Why do you ask you dork?" She started to reach for the thing she was scraping with. Sounding cautious, he could still see the red in her eyes. Fortunately there were no tear stains.

"I…saw…..what you are…..doing…..And I…..thought…that it looks…amazing." The nerves ate at his stomach, sort of afraid by how she would react.

Her face stood still, and he felt that he did the right thing. Although he wasn't so sure because Helga appeared that she could faint at any moment. The shock also went around the classroom because no one had ever complimented her artwork. In fact, as he saw as they realized that none of them except Mr. Simmons had seen her work before.

They started to crowd around, Arnold included, and they didn't say a thing. First it was music class, and now this. His intentions were simple – he wanted Helga to feel like she could be herself. Singing apparently was already a part of her. Now, with this, it just might help. Who's to say that her talent only happens when she plays sports anyway?

Everyone once again stared at the talent Helga possessed. And she finally opened her mouth, apparently not aware that other people were around. She probably didn't fully take in the nice words he told her.

"Well, um, thanks I guess," staring down at the piece, "The, the material is scratchboard." She grabbed the tool to finish her work. "Basically I take this chisel, which I can actually switch it out and put in a different kind if I need it for another reason, and I scrape off the black to create a reversed image. And if it doesn't look right, I can add watercolor or ink later on." She set it down and picked up her finished piece.

"There I'm done," Helga actually smiled (which of course made Brainy grin too) and looked up at him, "But I don't have much left and you could only get it at an art supplies store." Some of the others groaned, having also never seen it before and wanted to try it. But there were others, mainly Lila and Phoebe, who complimented her as well.

Sad to say the good moment went away rather quickly. And it was all because of Harold, whose glue-free hands playfully walked over casually and stuck his finger on Brainy's nose. His glasses fell down the bridge. Harold's overly sized stomach jerked with laughter.

"Hahaha! It seems like you like-like Helga!" In fact, everyone started to snicker at the idea of having anybody care for Helga in that way. Brainy swiped away at his hand to lift up his spectacles. He could see that Helga was mortified, Lila looked across at her sadly, and Phoebe was scowling at the boy just about ready to attack him (he shivered at the reminder when she was hall monitor last year). But none of their expressions could never have matched Arnold's reaction.

Brainy saw as Arnold (the understanding, do-the-right-thing kid), unknowingly to the others (even Gerald who also was laughing), stepped aside and out of the room. And the anger was caught in his throat again.

He was mad at his classmates for making fun of Helga possibly never finding love and for not giving her the chance to be herself.

He was mad at Harold for causing her bully façade at school because Brainy remembered that Harold was the first one to make fun of her feelings for Arnold.

And, oh, he was mad at Arnold.

He had known for some time that Helga was in love with him.

And he chose to ignore her feelings and not deal with them up front?

Well, Helga wasn't going to be given this much crap anymore.

And the next thing he knew he turned into Helga as Harold landed on the green tiled floor in the purple art room - punched in the face and knocked out.


	12. Curly

Well, at least he wasn't dead like he thought he would be. He'd been in more trouble for other things than this. Detention seemed to suit his style. He got them. Quite a lot actually. That's what made his reputation. He was crazier than anyone else. It just made him unforgettable. There was no denying that he wanted his statements up front and center! Regardless if he didn't have that many friends, he was just himself.

He didn't want to be ignored or mistreated. But somehow it always came down to that. And frankly, he didn't see why they would do that. He only wanted to be respected. Was that so much to ask? He thought not. He did want to be noticed. He couldn't live his life in fear of rejection and humiliation. So he fought back.

Even if it was just as crazy as trying to getting to spend time with his love.

Oh the black short hair, red sweater dressed girl was the one Curly dreamed of having for a girlfriend. And at least she thought he was an ok guy. He remembered her saying that to him when they were through with the pretend boyfriend/girlfriend fiasco last year. Even though in the end she was disgusted when he wanted to have a lock of her fine, gorgeous hair and he chased her down the street.

Curly sat there in Mr. Simmons' room at his desk, staring at the coins that lay before him. Most of his classmates had coins when they bet on Helga's singing ability. Some offered him cash, but he wanted coins so that he could stare at his beloved's face that he made up.

Rhonda was something else – something different.

With the exception of her fashionable yet somewhat-snobbish attitude toward other people, he thought that she was a well rounded person. She came from a wealthy family, and had to live up to certain standards. These standards he knew he could never reach. But he wanted to pull her down to see something beyond fancy clothes and trips around the world.

He wanted her to see his life more than anything – at least the qualities of his life. Curly sighed as the sunlight poured in.

She, like most of the others, was influenced by her parents. And he was too – but only in looks. His parents were pretty plain people and he did love them. But he wanted something more. An exciting life that was filled with adventure and craziness. And the fact that Rhonda had seemed to change considerably was something he was more than fascinated by.

There was no doubt in his mind that when he met her, she was simply a tomboy like everyone else. The girl played football and went on adventures such as going to Elk Island to find Wheezin Ed from what he heard. If Rhonda only became a rich stuck up girl in all the time like she showed herself as, then she wouldn't do these sorts of things.

She was a mystery – his mystery. Curly didn't understand why. But he wanted to figure her out while giving all the love he could give. It wouldn't be so hard if only she listened to him though. He didn't feel like that he could live up to her standards. Rhonda was beautiful and wealthy. She could easily ignore him and move on to the next rich guy like Lorenzo, Peapod Kid, or any other guy for that matter. That, along with the sense that he was on his own in the world, was what drove him crazy.

He was always disregarded, always ignored. And it shouldn't have bothered him. But it did. That's why he was in detention. He wanted Rhonda to care, and he wanted someone to see him.

For whom he was behind his psychopathic front.

He was mystery. And he wanted a mystery to solve a mystery. That's how life went – one thing after another. It was liberating to find that answer only to learn something new in the long run. And he wanted to figure her out more just as much as he wanted her to try and figure him out.

Rhonda was all about gossip and talking about people's lives through discovery. That was something they shared. And he wouldn't mind having her by his side to do this sort of stuff together.

Sure, he probably would still have that messed up mind with crazy schemes no matter what. It helped him get through day by day. And sometimes he would lay back and watch the weirdness before him. It wouldn't really matter. As long as each day was different, he would be fine.

His fingers moved along the coin drawing, the sunlight hitting the metals with the presidents on it. His glasses fogged up at the sight. Those presidents got to power by making daring moves in their lives. And he did that too. If Curly could do the craziest thing without driving his beloved away from him, he would be thankful because then there would be a higher chance at her loving him. Maybe this something crazy could lead to him being wealthy too.

He could give Rhonda more opportunities than she ever dreamed possible and with her love, he couldn't be ignored any longer.

It wouldn't matter if others didn't listen to him. As long as one person, his love, did listen and care – he'd be happy.

The sounds of Mr. Simmons's chair turned his attention to the man as he stood. He had been reading the essay rough drafts for the contest that were due at the end of the week. But it seemed as if he were tired enough that he needed some coffee. He yawned as he stretched.

"Boys, I'm going to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes. So stay in here until I get back Curly. Don't try to escape." He stared down at the black haired child.

Curly also thought about it. Escaping. That was what he normally would do. It would be perfect, especially since he wouldn't be in the room. No one was in the room to notice him. He rubbed his hands together in a plotting matter under his desk. He didn't say anything as he just looked at his teacher questioningly, almost as if he was innocent of doing such things.

"Oh and Brainy," Curly lifted his head at the realization, "If he does try to escape, please shout for me. The lounge isn't that far." He had completely forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room today. There was someone else with him! And it wasn't just any old kid.

It was Brainy.

Brainy – who had punched Harold out like a light. And from what he heard, the tubby boy wouldn't be going to school tomorrow either because he was a baby. Curly scoffed. What did Rhonda see in him anyway?

Ok, so she never admitted to liking Harold. But he and her were paired for the egg project and apparently went on the tunnel of love together. He remembered that night. They got on before all of that chaos ensued and Curly ended up going with some random chick. He should have gotten Rhonda for both of them. Not Harold.

Anyhow, that wasn't his concern at the moment as their teacher left the room. After he closed the door, Curly watched Brainy like a hawk. He observed his temporary hero. Harold was always telling him that he'd beat him up. But to actually be a witness to a historic moment as this – he wondered what the blonde who was wheezing was up to. Yeah, Harold made fun of him for possibly having a crush on Helga. So what? Anyone would make fun of a person for liking her of all people. However, Brainy was typically a calm guy. And to see him act so out of control and violent – he was awesome. How did he do it? More importantly why did he do it? Did he really like Helga?

He lifted his arms and crossed them over his desk as he lowered his head, peering to his left side at him. Fortunately his Rhonda coin image had not been messed up.

The other student sat there, looking like he was staring at Mr. Simmons' stuff. And he kept wheezing too, but it was different. He sounded nervous. To Curly, it was like Brainy wanted something from the man but he didn't want to get it when he had an audience of one in the room. Curly smiled.

This day was already shocking enough with Helga's contributions. Now Brainy wanted to do the unthinkable – he wanted to steal something. Curly sighed, shaking his head side to side. He didn't know the skills to being a good thief. Obviously.

So, as in return for doing something that he always wanted to do (beat up Harold), he thought he could should the newbie the ropes in the art of theft and tricks. Checking the clock, and seeing it say 3:02, they still had an hour before they could leave. And Mr. Simmons probably wouldn't be back for a while…the man did need his coffee after today's events. Curly smirked at the possibilities.

Standing up from his seat, he walked over to his classmate. Brainy suddenly straightened his back in the surprise that his shoes were making that muffled sound as the dirt scattered about on the floor. Curly hummed his favorite tune as he looked out the windows. No student in sight. He and Brainy were the only ones in the whole school.

Perfect.

Curly sat in the seat behind him. He couldn't help himself either. "Hey Brainy." He whispered, fingers tapping on his lap.

Then, Brainy just turned and reached in his pocket as he faced Curly. Pulling out an inhaler as his right arm lay over the chair, he took his medication with the other hand. He didn't say a word, which was normal. But he had this small smile, practically a smirk. The boy was shocked! Brainy really did have something up his sleeve didn't he?

Well this would just be more fun. Now if only he could communicate with him about what he planned without all of his wheez-

Hold the phone. Toss the balls in the bag. Tie him to a tree.

Brainy wasn't wheezing! Curly's mouth hung open, kind of expecting a fly to leave his throat. But of course that was stupid. This was real. There was silence between the two of them. And Curly was about to talk.

"You need something?" he asked. The kid beat the one and only Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe to the punch. The person in front of him wasn't the same guy he saw everyday at school with everyone else around. He sounded normal. His voice was smooth and somewhat deeper than most boys their age. With the way he talked, just with that sentence alone, he could have been considered to be an eighth grader!

Lifting his head up immediately to stare at the guy, "You can talk after you use your inhaler?"

Brainy nodded as he leaned forward. "Yeah of course I can," and laughing a bit, "It's just like I like simplicity and quiet. And sometimes you can learn more about a person just by watching them than anything else." He put up his glasses and Curly had the urge to do the same.

Setting his arms in front of him, he replied, "I know exactly what you're talking about!" He was smiling ear to ear in more excitement. Today was weird. But he liked it. "I mean, I didn't say anything after Mr. Simmons left and just watched you. Sorry about that but I was wondering-"

"Why I punched Harold in the face?" Brainy removed his arm from the chair and adjusted himself to face his classmate. The noises from the chair were annoying, just like all the chairs were in the school. At least he wasn't wheezing and Curly didn't have to tackle him to get him to talk. It saved energy for later tricks.

"And," he pointed his finger at him, "why did you look so nervous when he left? You were looking at his desk as if there was something you wanted. A test grade perhaps? I'd be happy to help you steal it since you punched Harold who's had it out for me lately. Or it is one of his possessions that we could hang on the flag pole at night? Hah! That would be awesome! I pledge allegiance to Mr. Simmons-" Meanwhile, he had his hand on his chest. But it didn't last long before Brainy put his hand on his mouth. Curly blinked.

The other boy smiled and shook his head with his eyes closed. "No, I don't need a test grade. Nor do I want to steal something of our teacher. But," he lifted his gaze toward the wild eyed student, "I could use some help in making a copy of one of the essays that was turned in today. And Curly please don't question me why I want it. Just accept the fact that I punched Harold which made you happy and you help me copy this essay which will make me happy."

Curly pushed his hand off of his mouth and shook hands with Brainy. He whispered in secret, "Deal. Which essay do you want?" Brainy caught on and stood up and motioned for him to stand as well. He looked to the door and the clock, making sure that they had some time. When he sighed that it was 3:08, he replied.

"I need to make a copy of Arnold's essay for the contest. It's a long story why I want to do this."

He couldn't believe it, especially since it didn't make any sense at all. But if Brainy wanted Arnold's essay then that would mean…

He jumped back and pointed yet again at him. "You want to ruin his essay so that you could win?" He started to walk in circles in the back of the classroom. "Why don't you just ruin all of our essays! You just want to win! That's it! No way am I," he turned to glare at Brainy, "Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe, will help you ruin the chances of me or my lovely Rhonda winning. Not at all."

He turned his eyes away closed, frowned, arms across his chest, and his foot tapped the floor. Brainy sighed and racked his hair. He went forward to Curly and pulled the smaller boy's shoulder. He frowned as well when the other opened his eyes again. But he still looked angry.

"Curly, I don't want to ruin the essays. I just want Arnold to win. You have your own sources from certain people right?"Curly nodded in confusion. "But what does this have to do with Arnold?"

Brainy stepped back to give some space as he pulled his inhaler out again to breathe. Taking in his medicine, he responded. "Well, I'm only going to tell you as long as you swear that you won't tell anybody! Got it!" He pulled on the boy's shirt, lifting him off the floor. It seemed that anger was what made the blonde's muscles very strong. It was probably the tension.

The black haired boy waved his arms and kicked his legs. "Ok ok I get it! But what's in it for me besides paying you back for the Harold incident?" He had to admit he was interested. The other only smirked again. "Because if Arnold does win, I can guarantee you that you would see real wild animals."

He put Curly down on the floor again. Though he was suspicious whether or not he told the truth. "What makes you say that?" Once again his foot tapped. And Brainy took his turn to cross his arms. "Well, I say this because through my own resources, Arnold wants to win so badly because he feels that by winning this contest," he looked back at the door, "well, I'm not exactly sure. But whatever it is, it involves finding his parents. And we do owe him you know."

The red rimmed glasses were lifted. "I'm not sure what you mean. What do we owe Arnold?"

The student lowered his arms. "Curly, Arnold has pretty much been the one everyone goes to when they're in trouble and you know it." Curly could see his point. Despite their classmate seeing him as a total loon, Arnold still helped him when he took all of the dodge balls and locked himself in Wartz's office. He was kind and considerate and helped people all the time.

He always did wonder where Arnold's parents were. He never talked about it much. But if his parents were lost in another country…. Who knows how awesome that could turn out! They could all go on a secret mission and be real heroes! Curly smiled at the thought. And maybe if Rhonda was in trouble, he could be her prince charming to save her. That would teach those rich boys and Harold who she is obviously so meant to be with!

He started laughing manically. This plan would work out flawlessly. But they needed to get a hold on that essay. Luckily, it was on top of Mr. Simmons' desk too so it didn't seem too hard.

Brainy stepped back and held out his hands in worry. "Uh, Curly, are you ok?" he asked. He just made his point about why they should help Arnold. And now the person standing across from him was chortling as if he had already accepted and came up with an idea. The blonde smiled at this reaction, even if it was creepy.

Curly pulled at his yellow shirt down to eye level. "Yeah I'm fine," he tugged, "Of course I'll help! Oh this is going to be great." He rubbed his hands together as he pulled away, walked passed Brainy toward the front of the room, ignoring the other desks, and headed for their teacher's. Now, he didn't go behind it because if Simmons' noticed that the chair was moved they were dead. So he stood in front, attempting to reach for the stack of papers on told. Unfortunately his arms were too short as he stretched, making it both frustrating and painful.

He could barely make out a few names before the other student surprisingly was behind him and grabbed the assignments, the crunches of the homework being in his hands. Curly turned around to see Brainy as he put all of the works on Lorenzo and Gerald's desks. There were quite a few students in their class and Mr. Simmons wanted to do a first round of editing their essays before the next class in two days.

The black and blonde haired boys stood next to each other – each being weird in their own right. One was fanatical and zealous while the other one was quiet and secretive. However, their mouths dropped at what was on top of one of the tables.

Most of the essays were about two or three pages long and only written on one side.

Arnold's though, his was about six pages and written on both sides! It wasn't hard to find since it was a stack instead of flimsy papers. It could have been considered to be a short story for all they knew.

Brainy coughed into his elbow and laughed a bit. "Well, I guess Arnold really does have an amazing discovery, huh?" He chuckled as Curly picked up the weight of it.

"Yeah, tell me about it," he stared down at the thing, "It's going to take at least twenty minutes to copy this thing alone!" He lifted his head and turned it to Brainy, "Plus, the copier is in the Weekly Word room. And you know that it's quickest to get down there by passing the Teacher's lounge. How are we going to get passed Simmons or even Wartz?" For once Curly was stumped. This never happened to him before. Why he couldn't think of anything – he had no idea. Maybe it was the exhaustion and confusion of the day. First Helga could actually sing! Then Brainy hit Harold! And now this! This, this was insane.

But still he loved it. And he could tell by the look on Brainy's face that he had something forming in his newly realized twisted mind. He was smiling almost the exact same way that he did earlier when he cackled. He must have been staring at that table for so long that he must have had a plan for this all along! Why didn't he see it sooner?

"Well," he looked down at the object between Curly's hands. "I didn't think that it would take so long, but obvious we have no choice." He lifted his eyes. "We have to go now. It will take ten minutes for us to get there, the twenty minutes to copy, and ten minutes to get back before Mr. Simmons gets back." The other scratched his head. "Don't we need a distraction in case one of them sees us? And how do you know if he'll get back after we do?"

They were walking to the classroom door as Brainy explained. "Well, Mr. Simmons did tell me to shout for him in case if you escaped. So," he opened the door and inspected the hallways before turning back to him. "If they do I'll just say that you attempted to escape and you run in the opposite direction of the Weekly Word room. That way, they won't suspect a thing. I already have a key that Arnold gave me so it shouldn't be hard to get in there. As for Simmons making it back on time, well that depends."

Curly and Brainy went out into the halls with no one in sight, still confused. The plan made sense, and he did loved being chased down by the man. But what did Brainy mean by depends?

"What do you mean?" He double checked the halls as they turned right and walked down like they normally would. Brainy shrugged as he also kept checking for teachers and janitors. "Well, he likes to watch the Education channel to come up with "special" ideas for us to learn. And he once told us that the best time to watch lasts until 4:00. So I don't think that he'd leave unless you escaped. Remember how he ignored you shouting over the speakers during lunch hour?" He smirked as they rounded to the left coming closer to the lounge. "He must have been focused on eating his lunch before you went mad." Brainy laughed.

Curly snickered to as the lights somehow got dimmer. It wasn't dark yet, but the cracked door on the left shone brighter than the walls. And the sound of a TV and the scent of coffee reached his nose. Man, it was closer than he thought! For once, the boy sweat dropped. It wasn't like the plan was stupid. But what if they could copy the essay completely in time? What if they saw them doing this? Would their entries to the contest be destroyed too?

Not that he cared; he would have chosen San Lorenzo with all of those animals anyway. He looked down once again at Arnold's essay. There were seemed to be words that said things like "waterfall", "Aztecs", and "volcano". Maybe that's where Arnold wanted to go. Although, he didn't seem like a psychotic jungle boy at all. But he didn't tell it to Brainy about such trivial problems. After all, he had a reputation to maintain.

He puffed out his chest as the both of them remained silent. They were like stealthy black cats as they tiptoed closer to the teacher's lounge. Fortunately neither of their shoes squeaked the floor, giving them away. Curly let out a sigh of relief as he slipped the paper behind his back into Brainy's hand in case if they were caught and he had to make a run for it.

It was a long and torturing move on his part. And his heart had pounded enough to send vibrations in his throat from this. This was the kind of stuff he lived for.

Too bad that's not what happened. While it was lucky that it looked like they were in the clear, at the quietest Curly had ever been in his whole life, he was sort of disappointed that they were not caught. Sometimes these sorts of stories got told around the school. And it would make his weirdness feel more normal to him. It was his safe zone – being out there and nuts.

The sounds and smells continued on as usual in that small room beside them. He could hear mumbles from Mr. Simmons as it sounded like he was scribbling on paper. Anyhow, Curly knew that he had to remain focused. After all, he wanted to impress Rhonda didn't he? And he would get to see animals actually in the wild and be "one" with them. It would save more time than to sneak into the zoo.

Eventually, once they were in the clear ahead in the hallway, it had gone practically black. No one was in the wing of the school at that hour of the day. But they could see that the clock had struck 3:20. There wasn't much time as the boys started to pick up the pace. They weren't running, but more like speed walking.

It was fun being sneaky in the dark corners of the school. Curly had to admit to him that even with Brainy, this was so cool!

Curly was striding forward with his eyes closed for just a second as he basked in his hidden pride. However, because of that, shock filled his every nerve as he felt his classmate's hand jerk him back. "Pssh," Brainy whispered, "Curly! Stop! We're here!" Man, Brainy had power in that hand! He could actually use something like that to rule the school. But that was probably more his approach….

His feet skidded backward as he shoved Brainy in the same direction. But he had his hand on the doorknob to the Weekly Word room, so Curly just stood a few feet back from where he was before his classmate pulled him while the other landed on his knees out of breath. Oops. The black haired boy pulled on the other's elbow to help him to stand. "Sorry about that my good man. I suppose I got ahead of myself." He knew he was acting like a gentleman, but that's how he acted whenever he tried to show sympathy or guilt. He inspected his fingernails, blowing on them with his right arm behind his back.

With the help he offered, Brainy got back on his feet and still didn't let go of the doorknob. He pulled out his inhaler again. "Thanks," he took in the medication as he whispered, "Curly." Reaching inside his collar, he pulled out the key to the room and twisted it into the lock. It was somewhat annoying because they had to be quiet again otherwise they would get caught for sure.

The key turned, and a very obvious click was the only sound. The boys looked to the left.

Phew. No one noticed.

Brainy for some reason just stood there, staring at the unopened door. Curly adjusted his glasses as he started to understand his classmate's nervousness. He never stole anything before and had to do the deed of getting Arnold's essay copied. He shook his head as he went forward and pushed the door inside. He gestured for Brainy to go in as well by holding the door out for him. "Uh, thanks again Curly. I guess I'm just anxious." He looked at him with a smile as Curly turned his back to flick the light on. "I didn't know that I would get like this."

"No problem. Now," Curly walked over to a table nearby some wall desks on the right. Sunlight was pouring into the room. "Let's copy this essay before we get caught. We don't need another detention." He turned as Brainy walked over next to him. Lifting the copier open, Brainy lifted his hand and tore the essay out of the staple. The red-rimmed boy raised an eyebrow. The other simply shrugged, knowing what he was thinking as he set the first paper on top. "It makes more sense to do this. That way, all the words can show up." He shut the lid as he pressed the print button.

Loud sounds for the machine caused the two to cringe. Curly opted to go and shut the door. Pulling down the blind in front, he hoped that it would help hide the light. It seemed shockingly fast that Brainy was already flipping the paper over for the second copy. Only ten more to go too…

He walked back and saw that Brainy was leaning against the edge, feet spilled out in front. He was exhausted, and maybe even a little sad. Curly frowned. It was rare for him to feel bad about other people except Rhonda of course. But he had this look that couldn't be erased. His hands gripped the table as he looked down with a frown.

The boy ended up standing in front of the other with arms crossed. Sure he was shorter than Brainy, but he felt as if he weren't. Something was up with him. Maybe it was the reason why he was in detention. Curly felt himself gathering the pieces in his head – the ones he chose to mainly ignore. But now, now he had the time as he watched Brainy flip and copy the papers of Arnold's essay.

Brainy got detention because he punched Harold in the face. And Harold was laughing because he thought that Brainy…

He grinned. Curly kept shuffling his feet as he put his hands in his pockets looking up at the kid in the yellow shirt. "So, Brainy." He drew out his voice slowly.

He looked up. "Yeah what is it?" Now he was the one who was confused as Curly took control of the situation. Unfortunately, all was lost from Curly's memory except the words that they spoke to each other. He didn't noticed Brainy's back and forth motions as he collected the copied papers. He didn't notice that they were being louder than they should have been.

"Well, you had mentioned before that there was something that I wanted to ask." Curly kept looking over Brainy's shoulder jovially.

"Yeah. What did I say?" He was intent on gathering the four pages that were already copied and was waiting on the fifth. So he really didn't glance behind.

And even though Curly sort of thought that he was ignoring him, he had too much on his mind to care about any other tricks. He wanted answers. "Oh, I don't know. I guess it was why you punched Harold. You know."

Brainy raised his brow, finally turning to glance at him as he flipped the third page over to make the sixth copy. "What?" He could tell Curly had something up his sleeve now with the way he was smiling. He believed he had everything figured out didn't he?

"How you like-like Helga." He smirked as he saw Brainy go rigid. His back to him, he removed the copy from the printer and the actual paper from the copier and put in the fourth page.

The kid stammered, making the other boy see the truth about his feelings. "I, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't like Helga in that way Curly." He was sweating down his face. If there was anything Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe was good at, it was interrogating people.

"Oh so you say," he strode beside Brainy as he switch sides of the paper for the eighth copy. The sounds of the copier almost drowned his voice. Almost. "You complimented Helga and she blushed. It's really quite obvious you like her and she likes you."

He could see that Brainy's veins were protruding from his neck. "Yeah, as friends. But that's it!" It sounded like he was serious enough. But, of course, he had to be sure.

"Then why did you punch Harold?" Curly questioned.

Suddenly, the boy turned his body to his right and faced him. His face was red, and very, very angry. Curly gulped, remembering when he lifted him off of the ground in the classroom. He backed away. "Because Helga doesn't deserve to be made fun of that's why!" He pounded his left fist on the table. "She deals with a lot more crap than you do!"

Ok, now Curly was freaked. But he wasn't going down. Taking his fingers, he counted."What do you mean? She's a bully. She's horrible, nasty, crude-"

Brainy swatted his hand away and gripped it like a vice. "Stop that! You don't know her."

Curly scoffed and tugged on his arm. In a strained voice even, he had a hard time believing that Brainy actually knew Helga. "And you do?"

Next thing he knew, the other student pushed him to the side and turned back to take care of the next copy. "Yes. Yes I do." His voice was just a depressing whisper. It was like knowing Helga was painful.

"How so?" He meant to talk about the pain, how Brainy knew her. It didn't make any sense how he knew her so well. He kept rubbing his wrist from the other's strength.

Brainy still wouldn't look up at him. "Have you ever seen her parents? Her sister?" That was odd. Why's he changing the topic?

But he decided to play along. He probably had a point that he would tell eventually. "Yeah of course I have. At least her dad and her sister. I only saw her mom at the Parent's Day Games last year." He remembered Helga's mom. She was skinny with short blond hair. Although she was so pathetically weak! She couldn't even lift Helga on top of her shoulders well.

"Can you imagine Curly?" He finished the tenth page. Only two more to go and then they could get out of there.

"Imagine what?" Having a family like Helga's. That's he thought Brainy meant as he scrunched his face. Once the eleventh paper was in the copier, both of his hands dropped to his sides in fists. Curly had never seen him like this before.

Brainy hid his face. "Having a brute, forceful father; a drunken mother; a sister that all of our classmates admire but don't admire Helga." What? How did he know about all of this? Sure, he knew Big Bob Pataki was tough. But that shouldn't count for Helga's bad attitude.

Curly countered. "But Helga's mean." He started to sweat. Maybe he shouldn't have asked.

Once the eleventh paper was out, the other kid put turned it over to the last page. "But that shouldn't matter. You guys can compliment a person multiple times that you see only what? Once or twice in your lifetime? But you hurt her sister who you see every single day?" Brainy was asking so many questions. And he was practically yelling in his ears.

"Why are you being so defensive?" Curly shouted.

"Because Helga needs protection!" The last paper was printed. Brainy sighed as he went back to taking both the original and copied essays to staple them.

Curly just stood there in wonder as he flailed his arms. "But she can punch the daylights out of anyone!" Ughh, he wasn't making sense. Which normally he liked, but right now it confused him to no end!

"Doesn't matter. She needs protection from the criticism you guys give her!" Criticism? Criticism? Hah! That's a laugh. Other than Harold and Helga, everyone else weren't bullies. But Harold just joked around and made a punch every now and then.

Helga, she was just plain mean to others and kept saying that she hated people.

"She yells at us! How else are we supposed to react?" he questioned loudly.

After Brainy was done, he stood in front. Holding on tightly to the papers, he said, "By simply understanding her; the way Arnold and I do."

Not much more could be said as he got the papers together and stormed out the room, taking the key off of the table, and leaving Curly standing there just as lost as ever. And he kept standing there with thoughts in his head.

Brainy really understood Helga. That much was obvious based on what he told him about her family. But what did he mean about Arnold understanding her? Was Brainy mad at Arnold too? No. That couldn't be it because he was helping him. Ughh, this didn't make any sense.

Not surprisingly, Mr. Simmons showed up a few minutes later. He must have seen the lights coming from the room. Poking his head inside, he saw Curly standing there facing the door.

"Curly?" he asked, coming inside. He kneeled in front of him with an arm on his leg.

"Yeah?" He knew that he didn't sound like himself, but after what had just happened between him and Brainy, he had a growing headache.

"Were you trying to escape?" It was a simple question. And Curly could have just ratted out his classmate about the copying the essay. But for some unknown reason, maybe the aches or the words that Brainy had said, he couldn't.

So he lied. "Yeah, I was."

"Then why didn't Brainy call for me?" Mr. Simmons put a hand to his shoulder. Somehow it felt good, having some stability. Curly never accepted that sort of thing. But right now he founded that he needed it more than ever. So he didn't push him away.

"Because some other students came and asked for his help getting something. He," Curly gulped to make it sound like he was nervous, "He wasn't in the room. So I tried to get out of this joint!" He made the attempt to laugh manically.

Mr. Simmons sighed and left the conversation at that as they left the Weekly Word room. And he knew that he got detention for the next day.

And for once, Curly didn't mind. It would give him more time to think.

About Helga. About Arnold. About Brainy. About Rhonda.

And of course plotting his next escape.

After all, he was Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe. He could figure out anything.


	13. Olga

Her fingers were like icicles. The bowl would slide constantly on the counter, and she would have to mix the ingredients with one hand while the other held on. Sometimes she would make an attempt to look out beyond the red curtained window to gaze outside. The sun was gorgeous out there! Splendid even! It was so much better than that nasty storm from yesterday. However, she was preparing her special meatloaf and couldn't be disturbed. But still, it was a nice comfort to have.

Her right hand was sugar coated as she mixed it in with the beef and wet bread pieces that were soaked with water. Olga smiled in thought. This was her great grandmother's recipe. And she had been reminded about this delicious delicacy after being served a pasta dish from the banquet she attended to last night. It was a very sweet event that was honored for her; although she was used to it by now.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy with the awards she had received since she was young. In fact she was very grateful. It just reminded her that she had a purpose in the world. But she hadn't truly found out what it was yet.

Even though the young woman could only see the neighbor's house and part of the backyard, it was like there were simply the blue and purple striped walls in front of her, regardless of that warm feeling on her forearms. Her mouth would frown, which was very rare for her. But churning the ingredients was difficult, especially because she had to do it by hand in order for it to come out right. Sometimes she would breathe out in frustration.

And it was in more ways than one why she felt like this too.

She knew she cried a lot when things weren't doing well in her life. And she knew that she behaved like a baby. Which was why, as she pounded the meat further into the bowl, Olga felt that deep guilt. While there was a good chance that her baby sister was somewhat proud of her for what she accomplished, Helga probably had done some amazing things too. And there was nothing more that she wanted – let her be the one in the spotlight.

Let her shine. Let her talents show. And she pleaded in her hopeful mind that she could step aside just once. She wouldn't care if her mommy and daddy spent one moment cheering Helga on. She was smart and sweet deep down.

Olga looked up out the window. The wind would sweep through the tree branches and the leaves were starting to fall rather slowly. It was October after all. But the grass was still beautifully green from the rain that had fallen earlier. Sadly, it was only a matter of time before it would dry out. And Olga hoped that the relationship between her and her sister wouldn't either. Her hands worked the meal some more. She planned on serving it at dinner that night.

Helga hadn't come in that morning for breakfast. And Olga had prepared it especially for her baby sister too. She had to bite her lip from still crying about it. Daddy said that he wanted strawberry French toast that morning. And she knew that he, as he always would, force Helga to eat something made by her. But she couldn't give it to her. Helga was surely to end up in the hospital with a horrible case of hives. Or even worse….Olga bit her lip again. She knew she had to grow up.

She understood why Helga hated her. Mommy and especially Daddy had suffered from favoritism. And Olga abused that. Sometimes she would try to convince them to notice her sister. But they always came back to looking at her and her good deeds. She allowed it to happen too. Every now and then she would go on all of these travels around the world to help others, and there was no telling what could happen to her. She could get hurt or sick or even die.

Sure she would turn out fine so far, but what if something did happen….Olga tried not to think about it. That's why she took the attention from Helga and she knew it was selfish. But those precious moments that she wanted to have with her baby sister was the only wish that she had. The ten year old girl saw her as the perfect person.

She let go of her lip and turned around in the kitchen. As far as she knew, Mommy had taken a nap in the living room, Daddy was still at work, and Helga was in her room. Her slippery grip tightened on the counter as she leaned on her arms in the empty room. It smelled of dust and dirt, but there was lemon scent when she cleaned the counters of their silly messes. Olga shook her head. "So silly, Mommy and Daddy…" she muttered to herself.

But Helga wasn't. Yes, there were times where she would call her that. Silly. It sounded so simple – as if that's all she was. But it only helped to make her feel worse. If she was perfect, as Helga claimed, she would have figured out an answer by now. She couldn't. They were just too different, and Olga wondered why sometimes. She knew that her baby sister suffered, and it shouldn't really affect how she lived her life. Helga had many great qualities! So why wasn't she happier?

The young woman walked over to clean of her dirty hands with a paper towel. Ripping the man made "cloth", the lights started to flicker a bit. It went unnoticed though as she decided to take a break. Tossing the mess into the trashcan beside her feet, Olga pulled out a chair from the island and sat down with her head leaning in her left hand. She sighed as she let out one tear. She refused to whine.

Helga was not happy today, and that worried Olga. She wasn't acting like herself.

"_Please Mommy, why don't you lie back on the couch?" She was leaning over her mother, whose glasses were leaning off her nose as she struggled to keep sitting up. It was in the earlier part of the afternoon and already she had to hold in her sadness, which wasn't easy. She had never seen Mommy like this, at least not for awhile. Olga tried to reach out for a pillow beside Miriam, a nice fluffy one at that, but the older woman shooed her hand as her head leaned back dazed._

"_Don't worry," she slurred, "about me Honey." She only frowned more and whimpered a bit. She had only gotten back from the grocery store to get a few items for dinner, and here was her mom – drunk. Olga understood that she had to remain patient with Mommy, but it wasn't the easiest thing to do. Her mother hadn't been like this since she was eleven or twelve. And she said that she would stop, especially when Olga asked her to - for Helga of course. _

_Back then, she didn't know if she was going to have a baby brother or sister. And even though she was rather young and silly, even with the nineteen trophies for different things, Olga knew that drinking was bad for any baby. She didn't want that little person to get sick and stay that way for the rest of its life. _

_And she thought that her mother meant it too. So this didn't make sense. She never drank when her daughter would come home from college. _

_The glass of one of Mommy's smoothies and the blender sat on the table in front of her. And some bits and pieces of fruit and sticky juices were smeared as well. The worst part, as Olga scrunched her nose, was the bitter and burning taste of alcohol in her throat. The smell ruined the air. And she didn't have the heart to go near her mother's mouth. She probably poured the whole bottle from the kitchen into her beverage._

_Olga never drank, but she was tempted every once in a while at the schools she attended to. Being really popular in both high school and college, she was invited to a lot of parties. And she stupidly thought that her first invites to parties at all three schools (since she went on to graduate school somewhere else) wouldn't involve drinking. She shook her head, not caring to admit that to Mommy and Daddy. They wouldn't like that._

_But if her mother drank, as she knew from being her daughter, then why couldn't she? Maybe if Daddy found out, he wouldn't believe it – that both she and her mother were drinking. Or was it the health consequences that could happen to her? Maybe she just didn't want to._

_She could see that Mommy was falling asleep, sitting up. The lights were already turned down so Olga was glad that she didn't have to make it more real. If she turned down the lights herself, then it would be like accepting Miriam's fate. And she would lay there asleep and doing nothing. The young woman felt more tears come down her face as she walked over to Daddy's chair. It wasn't clean entirely. There were some stains on it, but at least there was a soft wool blanket that she could use. _

_The carpet underneath her creaked because the wooden floorboards were getting old. The sound rang in her ears. There was nothing else to listen to other than Mommy's breathing. It was surprising that Olga couldn't find it in herself to whine. Normally she would regardless of whether someone was sleeping or not. The fabric was woven well; the cream-colored fibers tickled her skin. She almost wanted to wrap it around herself, as if there was some peaceful presence surrounding her sadness._

_Laying it across Mommy, it was difficult. But Olga leaned over again. And placing a feathery kiss on her mother's left cheek, she mumbled, "Get better Mommy." She knew that the older woman couldn't hear her, but it was better than nothing. _

_The smell of alcohol burned her nose._

_Olga stood up again and looked over her mother one more time until she woke up later. It was just too much, seeing her that way. Cupping her mouth with her hands, she ran into the kitchen. She didn't bother cleaning the mess on the table in the living room. If there was one thing Olga prided herself on was that she didn't want to be seen as a servant._

_Daddy said that would ruin the family name. Why? She didn't know. All she understood was that as soon as she went into the kitchen, she started to rip all of the bags that she had set in there and started preparing the meatloaf. Having that comfort of some homemade food that didn't have alcohol in it, and it being a family recipe no less, helped. But the tears didn't stop until later. _

_Time passed. And it felt like hours. Olga got home around one and it took an hour for her to put Mommy for her "nap". However, she could hear the creak of the door opening and closing. Her hands were still cold and wet from putting the bread slices in. But looking to her right at the microwave underneath the cabinets, it was only 2:47. Helga must have gotten home. _

_That put a smile to her face. She could help out with dinner! It would probably help make Olga's day. Maybe they could bond and get to know each other better. Wiping her fingers with the paper towel beside the bowl and small bread crumbs, she walked over to the hallway about to greet her baby sister._

_Olga quieted hummed at bit, but it sudden stopped. She took a step back and hid next to the oven and stove. Her head turned at stared at Helga. She was gorgeous! She never had her hair in a pony tail before and that outfit was absolutely adorable! She looked like she was in an amazing performance and ready for that special red carpet! Olga almost squealed with excitement._

_But what prevented her from doing that and letting her baby sister know she was home, was the sound of her backpack hitting the ground. She squinted her eyes and realized something. Helga had cried earlier. She didn't have the red eyes or the tear marks. But her face was flushed, and her cheeks and nose were pink. The worst part was her face._

_Her gaze was blank, almost as if she was in a sad state of shock. Her blue eyes were dulled over as if there was no life in them. Olga went to reach out, but Helga spoke. And the young woman's eyes widened. This was probably the first time Helga had seen their mother drunk! Olga never wanted this to happen to her baby sister. Not at all. She cupped a hand over her mouth again to silence herself. _

"_Crimeny," Helga whispered, "Miriam. Why do you do this to yourself?" The college student couldn't see her sister anymore as it seemed that she walked into the living room. "You keep promising me that you'll stop this. Remember the road trip and the time you had to help Bob with the Beeper Emporium. You were so happy! I don't remember seeing you that, that alive before." She could hear Helga sigh. "I bet if I was Olga though, you would stop. You and Dad always listen to her. And you know," she sniffled which broke Olga's heart, "when I don't have a good day, like today for example, it doesn't help. What you're doing doesn't help!"_

_She found her chest beating loudly in her ears as she couldn't bear to see Helga's face. Her baby sister had known about this? Was this how Mommy was when she wasn't home? Once again, tears poured down her face as she heard Helga grab her things and ran upstairs to her room._

_How could she have been so blind?_

And it wasn't long before the sunlight and the dinner helped to cheer her up. Sometimes doing good things in a happy environment, even if it was only coming from a sunny window, was supportive. Yes, she was upset. And Olga's heart still ached with the need to comfort Helga. But she knew that her baby sister needed some space. After all, if Helga really needed something, she would ask for help. So she stayed in the kitchen working on dinner for the next couple hours. She would have to work on the potatoes and the Caesar salad in between as well. All and all, she thought that maybe a nice meal might do the trick.

But there she was, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. Her fingertips were freezing, but Olga ignored it. Working on a dinner like this took a lot of effort out of her -especially now that she had a new purpose to this meal – to make everyone's day happier. She sighed once more as she tapped the wooden table. She needed the break, but there was nothing she could do except wait on Mommy to wake up, Daddy to come home, and for Helga to come down the stairs.

Olga lazily scratched the table. Grains of sugar were scattered still, and for once she didn't feel like cleaning. She was just that exhausted. It seemed like nothing really was going her way.

Then, her ears picked up at the sound of the mail slot at the front door. It opened and closed with a small bang, squeaking from the nuts and bolts. Her head lifted out of her hands as looked back out to the hallway. Harvey already dropped off the mail around eleven, hadn't he? Raising an eyebrow, she turned and stood out of her chair.

Walking out to the door, her right hand grazed the blue wall. As she got closer, Olga checked to see that her mother was still, in fact, asleep on the couch. The smell of alcohol was still harsh, but it wasn't as bad. Soft snore could be heard. But when she focused back on the floor, she saw that there was a thick manila folder that was crumpled. It was probably a little difficult to slip through. Her black shoes scuffed beneath her as she reached down and lifted it in her hands. Reading the words, "Helga Pataki - Confidential" on the front in scribbled red marker, Olga wondered what anyone else would. What was it?

It was obvious that there were a bunch of papers inside. But she didn't want to attempt to open it. It was against the law to open up someone else's mail. And, she gulped lightly; Daddy could find out about it and question her baby sister later too. Daddy shouldn't break a law, and Helga wasn't doing too well. It could only make things worse. And her dinner plans could be ruined! She shook her head of these thoughts as she found herself going up the stairs to her baby sister's room.

Meanwhile, Olga couldn't bring herself to look at the walls, knowing that she'd be only looking at herself or her parents. Not Helga. She tightened her grip. She wanted things to be better for her and anything that the two of them tried to do wasn't working. Frowning at the thought, Olga felt the urge to pull her sister out of the house if only to get her away from all of this. Helga was brave and blunt and independent. But she could see those moments that her baby sister would shy away and become insecure.

She didn't deserve this life. She deserved something better than this. Helga needed a laugh, a smile, anything that might help. And well, if this package would do it – then Olga would be happy too.

Finally, as she faced her sister's door, Olga began to feel very nervous. Helga never liked having people come into her room. Maybe if she just knocked on it…

"Baby sister? It's me. Could you please open the door?" she asked cautiously. She gripped the folder even harder.

Her bed sheets and blanket ruffled. And it seemed that Helga was grumbling. "What do you want Olga? Can't you see that I'm sleeping here?" she shouted through the walls. Olga stepped back a bit and bumped into the table. The pot of flowers shifted.

She attempted to yell, although poorly. "But baby sister, a package just came for you! And I think it's very important."

"Why? What's so important about a dumb package?"

"Be-because it says that it's confidential. And I don't think that you'd want Daddy getting it. It's yours."

Slowly, the door unlocked to reveal her younger sister who was rubbing her eye. Olga frowned, seeing her out of her new clothes and pony tail. Instead, Helga's messy hair was rolling down her back and she had on her oversized pink night shirt. She must have had just as much of an exhausting day as she did. But, just as Olga thought earlier, her day was probably worse than her own.

She held out the papers as Helga took them. Looking down then up at her, her eyes were bloodshot. But her eyebrow rose, not quite believing her just yet. "Did you read this? Because if you did-"

Olga shook her head and kneeled down to her level. Putting a hand on her shoulder and resting her other arm on her knee, she replied. "No, Helga. It's illegal to look into someone else's mail. Of course I wouldn't do that. And besides," she took her sister's hand in her own; "I would never do that if it meant ruining a special dinner I made for you." Olga stared at her with a smile.

Helga stuttered at the sincerity that she had. Olga rarely called her by her first name. "Well, um, thanks Olga." Once again she looked down at the package. But the longer she stared at it, she could see that her younger sister started to undo the clasped at the top. She stood back up again and walked backwards. It was Helga's property. And if she didn't want her to see it, then that was just fine. She still grinned a bit.

She flipped the top of the folder open, and pulled out the first of what looked to be quite a few papers. Seeing Helga's eyes widen and her hands shaking, she dropped the package on the floor. Her mouth hung open.

Olga bit her lip in worry. "Are you ok baby sis-" She couldn't go any further because out of nowhere, Helga had given her a hug! Her baby sister… was giving her a hug! And a strong one at that too! It took Olga's breath away. It was too good to be true. And she wanted to respond, but the other pulled away.

Hiding her arms behind her back, her sister looked down. "Thanks Olga. I-I needed this package. And I, well," she gulped, "appreciate that you didn't just hand it over to Bob. And more importantly, well." Helga picked up the folder. "I appreciate that you trust me." It was no more than a whisper. But what was more special was that, for the first time since Olga had seen her sister, Helga smiled genuinely. This must have meant a lot to her for some reason. And if Helga was happy, she was happy. It was the best part of her day.

Her hands joined together in front of her in glee as she swung her legs back and forth. "Well, that's sweet of you to say Helga. In fact, that just, well," apparently she too was having a hard time finding words.

"What?" It wasn't harsh, just Helga being her curious self. It was simply adorable, but she held her squeal back.

Instead Olga simply looked down at her talented, considerate sister that was holding something near and dear to her heart – whatever it was. And one day, she hoped to be there as well. "It made my day." And all she could think about was how true that statement had been before the two went their way - Helga into her room and Olga in the kitchen. The best part though, in Olga's eyes anyway, wasn't the conversation they had or the fact that her baby sister seemed to feel better. Or even her for that matter.

It was just having that precious moment. And that filled her wish for the time being.


	14. Shortman

He could see the bandage that crossed his pet. Fortunately, it was a carefree one at that and very intelligent. It knew the ins and outs of the neighborhood such as going to his best friend's house. Rubbing his hand over it, the grey feathers were smooth to the touch while having that gentle attitude that made the boy smile. Sometimes he wondered why people called pigeons disgusting birds. That wasn't true. He smiled though as the rumbling from Chester's upper body grew louder.

The cold was getting worse as the winds were hitting against Arnold's back. And surprisingly his carrier pigeon was somehow unaffected. He knew he should be concerned about the creature, but the fact that Chester was healing was all that mattered. And besides, he was going to take him to Gerald's for a few weeks. Ever since Pigeon Man left, Gerald and Arnold began to look up information on how to take care of them better instead of just feeding them and giving them water. He shuddered with goose bumps as they shot up his arms. Even folding them to his body wasn't helping as his green eyes were practically shut.

Yet somehow the weather calmed him down. Arnold hadn't felt this way since his birthday twelve days ago, and even more at the now eleven-day mark. Sure it was one day's difference, but it meant a lot to him. He probably wrote the best essay he ever worked on! And he could only hope that it would lead to something great. He couldn't even describe the feeling even if he tried. Because if it did truly happen in his wildest dreams, then time could only tell how he would react. Would he be in shock and faint? Would there be tears? Would he even smile?

However, he had his doubts at the same time which was why he was up there in the first place. Since this was reality, would he even win the contest? What if he didn't? What if he never knew? Would he be jealous enough to hate whoever else won? Arnold shook his head at the thought. He was on fire enough as it was. He was just getting worked up. Maybe he was overestimating himself. His blonde hair blew in the wind. It seemed like he was already crying, even if it was from closing his eyelids so tightly.

It was hard, really hard. He knew he was more of a dreamer than a realist. So, as an unnoticed tear escaped his right eye, he accepted the face that the chances were he wouldn't win. There were probably a load of city kids that wrote discoveries that even he couldn't imagine. His sulk grew. _"It probably doesn't matter that I wrote about ten or more pages. They want a good story; not one with just a bunch of dumb words."_ He felt uncomfortable. He was excited, but desperate; happy, but sad; peaceful, but energized. Arnold knew he was told over and over again that he looked on the bright side a lot. But they brought him very good memories with his family and friends. That was what helped him deal with it.

Arnold looked to the future. However, with it being as uncertain as it stood, he could only rely on the better moments to cheer himself on.

He clutched his jacket tighter, not sure how much longer he could stay out there. Tomorrow was Monday, which meant that until then at minimum he wouldn't find out who won. The temperature was tearing at his skin. The funny thing was that he wanted to stay outside. It was obviously better than pacing in his room. He didn't want to be selfish. But that was the problem. He could feel his lips chap up as the weather suddenly shoved itself in his face making him step back. Licking them, he continued his train of thought. _"Wait a minute, what if one of my friends wins the contest? I mean, I would be happy for them. But what if I ended up hating them? I, I …don't know." _Opening his eyes, he looked up at the shadows of the overpass highway. It looked very brand new for it being in an older neighborhood. But then again, it did get blown up several months ago. Well over a year actually. Arnold shook his head.

"Well, I have been on the craziest adventures haven't I?" Thinking back to what his friends and Mr. Huynh said on his birthday, it really was helping him feel better; almost reaching the point of being confident even.

"Well, I don't know much about that Arnold. But I must admit your room is sure nicer than my house or any room I've ever been in." A low voice spoke from behind his back. The boy's face grew wide. He knew who it was, but the man had never been on the roof before. Normally, he would see him on the streets with that good attitude of his except when the weather was unbearable. Turning around, Arnold saw as the man stepped up from the steps from his skylight. Who told him about that? He could have used the stairs. Another chill blew, but the blonde smiled regardless. Stepping away from his rumbling pigeon, he walked in front of the man dressed in a thin white and blue suit fit for the cold. "Hey Harvey," but his teeth chattered, "What...What are you…you doing up… here?"

The mailman rubbed his hands too through his gloves for warmth. Sure Arnold knew it was cold, but looking down at his fingers, the tips were starting to become blue. His green eyes widened. How long had he been up there? An hour? Two maybe? He probably should have put on gloves before heading outside. It was mid October!

He turned his attention back up to man and somehow remembered that Grandpa had told him he was an older friend of his dad's a couple of weeks ago. What if-

Harvey chuckled at the boy's confused face. "Well, I was purchasing chicken feed at the grocery store and bumped into your pal, Ernie right? The guy that said he would fry my chickens last year?" Arnold nodded dumbly still not quite getting it. That was when Gerald Field was founded. He bit his tongue to just stop him from thinking and let Harvey explain. The man didn't seem to notice. "Well, we started talking and he told me about what you were up to. And, uh, I wanted to talk to you too." He turned toward the stairwell and back to Arnold. "Do you mind getting those chairs Arnold?" At this the child blinked. That was weird.

First of all, it was freezing. And the mailman hated extreme weather. Why would he actually want to stay out there in the first place? Arnold stumbled on his words as he walked over to get the folded chairs."Well, don't, don't you want to, to go inside Harvey?" he asked as he touched the icy metal, "I know how you don't like this weath, weather." The chairs were heavier than he thought as he pulled them over to where he was standing. His fingers were numb by this point, wondering if temperature was all he could actually feel at this point.

Seeing him struggle, the older man chuckled and held out his hand that let Arnold know that he would handle setting up the chairs. "No, I don't mind. In fact, it seems right to sit up here." Returning his arms to his body, he could hear the squeaks of the seats unfolding and bumping as they were set in the middle of the rooftop. Here he was, on top of the boardinghouse with the generous mailman in the middle of cloudy windblown weather. It was almost similar to the conversation that he had with Mr. Huynh. And as Arnold watched Harvey take a seat, he felt a small spark of excitement shoot through him. If he was a friend of his father's childhood, then maybe this would be another moment where he could learn more about him. So he took his steps quickly as he sat across from him.

His breathing slowed down, hearing the blood pump in his ears. "So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Arnold gripped the chair tightly as his head hung and his legs kicked back and forth. Harvey raised an eyebrow as he tapped the kid's shoulder. "Now come on, Arnold, you're not in trouble. I'm just a friend who wanted to visit you." He smiled.

"I know Harvey. And I appreciate that you did. I was just thinking that's all." He mumbled the last sentence, hoping that the other didn't notice it. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Arnold's head lifted. "Well, what were you thinking about?" he questioned, "I can keep a secret." He removed his hand and tapped his fingers on his knees as he leaned toward him. He really meant it. And seeing that friendly grin on the man's face helped him feel good enough to tell him.

"Well, um, my grandpa and I were talking a few weeks ago. And at some point he brought up the fact that you were," he took in a deep breath and continued, "were, friends with my dad." His eyes watered a bit, the reality of the situation he was in still surprising. He wanted to know more stories, but now was afraid to ask. If he didn't win the contest, what was the point in knowing what else happened? Building up all of this drive only to have it shoved in his face? Yet at the same time he needed to get to know his parents in any way possible.

Harvey sat up straight and put a hand to his chin. "Your father huh?" he asked him. Arnold could see that he was holding something back. And for a few minutes neither of them said a thing – until the man laughed like no tomorrow. He scared the boy, causing him to flinch back in his seat. Surprisingly sweat dripped down the side of his face as he lifted his arm to cover it. "Harvey?" How could the mention of Arnold's father cause him to laugh?

Once he calmed down, the mailman put a hand to his chest but still chuckled. He wiped away what seemed to be a happy tear. When he opened his eyes, Arnold sighed in relief. "Oh, oh I'm sorry Arnold. I was just laughing about a good memory that I had with your dad." Harvey gave him a playful shove on his arm. He didn't know what to make of this other than feeling content knowing that Grandpa hadn't been lying. Sometimes he could make up stories to help him along.

So the excitement built up inside of him. "Really? What was it?"

And he knew that Harvey could tell. To him, he felt the same way again as he did when he and Grandpa had found the journal. Leaning back in the chair, the cold winds did not affect his friend the same way it affected him. Pushing his blond hair out of his face, Arnold smiled. Everyone that he got along with, even the adults, he considered his friends no matter what. He didn't think about it too much as he let Harvey tell him the story.

"Well, as you can tell, I am a few years older than your dad. But when we were kids, man he would get himself into the craziest situations." The man continued to chuckle. "Well, I would say us. But between you and me, I always found a way to escape." Arnold arched his gaze in wonder. His father got into trouble as a kid? The crazy situation thing he expected from what he read in the journal, but him being rebellious?

"Do you mean that he was a troublemaker?" he asked with worry. The man continued. "Oh no Arnold, he was a good guy. That's why we were friends in the first place. But he would pull a prank every once in a while for fun. And when he did, everyone knew that he was joking. But how we became friends was a memory I would never forget."

Now it was Arnold's turn to be serious. The tension, regardless of how Harvey saw it, was unbearable at this point. It didn't matter anymore if he was afraid or not or if it would only hurt him in the end. He had to know. If he had to ask everyone in Hillwood who knew his mother or father well enough to tell stories to him, well, it would almost be like they were there. It was better than nothing. Letting go of the seat, Arnold also sat up. "Well Harvey, how did you and my dad become friends?" The other stretched his arms and yawned a bit. The cold must have been making him tired. Now that Arnold thought about it, it was probably almost dinner time.

"Well, if I recall, your father was up on this roof coming up with a prank of his own. He meant for it to be for your grandfather. Although I heard that your grandmother had some say in it." The boy smirked at that. That sounded like Grandma alright. She always drove Grandpa crazy.

"What was the idea?" To be honest, Arnold loved this. It had to have a good ending.

Relaxing again, Harvey put his rough hand on Arnold's other shoulder. "Well, I guess seeing as how you and Gerald saved the neighborhood, this wouldn't seem surprising. But your grandfather had signed him up for the annual reenactment of the pig war with his other friends when they were a little older than you are. But your dad wasn't told this until the day before." At this, Arnold blinked. Grandpa had done the same thing with him?

"So, he had already learned about that tomato incident and thought he could "reenact" it. He had set up the plan and everything so that your grandfather was on the sidewalk. The catapult was made, by your father's hand of course. You know, I always wondered about how he managed to make that all on his own. But he also grabbed those British tomatoes. I was working at the paperboy back in the day. And as I was talking to your grandfather about something, he stepped back. And now, I didn't know what was going on. But the next thing I know, all I saw was red and tomato juice going down my face."

Arnold laughed at the story, even though it wasn't finished. But he only did because his grandfather seemed to not notice much when it came to schemes. So it was weird to learn that he actually could figure out when his dad was doing something. The mailman sat back in his chair.

What Arnold didn't notice, though, was that Harvey saw that he was helping the boy. The man beamed. "Anyway, I looked up to see even more red. Man, your dad was embarrassed! He didn't know that he had hit a total stranger. I guess he realized what he did wrong until he didn't hear Phil yelling. So he came downstairs and offered to help me clean up after apologizing. So we went up to his room and he looked for some clothes that he thought would help even though I said it was alright."

"But I couldn't help noticing that there was some blues music playing on the radio by his bed. Your dad wasn't noticing, so I sang to that incredible beat. I was so into the song that it took me a moment to realize that I wasn't the only one that was singing." Arnold could have sworn that his jaw dropped. "My, my dad sang the blues?" He pretty much shouted. Not that the blues was bad music, because it was good, but he would have thought that his dad would have been more likely to listen, or even sing jazz music instead. Harvey gripped his seat just as Arnold had done before. "Well, yeah he did," he laughed, "but he wasn't good. He was a romantic, but he has the smoothness similar to that kid that gets hurt all of the time…um what was his name?" Arnold stammered. "Eugene."

Harvey nodded. "Yeah, Eugene. Poor kid. Anyway, after that we laughed with each other since we both were embarrassed – your dad with the prank and me with my singing without knowing he was listening. And ever since then we have been good friends."

The boy blinked not fully understanding the man's words as he sat there with a big smile on his face. There was just something that wasn't quite right about it.

Arnold had to ask because it just didn't make any sense. "Harvey? Can I ask you something?"

He was rubbing his hands together. The winds had long since stopped and now it was just cloudy. But the temperatures didn't get any higher. They were still very chilly. Breathing more warmth into them, he looked up at the boy. "Sure Arnold. What is it?" His voice was deep, but very reassuring. After all, he had known Harvey since he was probably a baby and a friend of the family and the rest of the neighborhood. He could be trusted. "You, you said that you and my dad have been good friends." He started out with difficulty. Luckily the mailman pushed him on. Arnold really was struggling with asking him this. "And…" he gestured his hands to continue.

"You make it sound like he is still here, in Hillwood. I mean," He blushed a bit in nervousness as he rubbed his right arm, "you know he hasn't been here since I was very little and I don't understand why-" He couldn't finish his sentence though because he was wrapped in a one-armed hug from Harvey. Another tear slipped down his cheek. This, this was one of those moments that he knew he needed.

The mailman spoke calmly. "You see, that's why I'm here." Arnold didn't speak because he remembered that Harvey hadn't answered his question from earlier. They just got caught up in a different conversation. "When I was talking to Ernie, he mentioned that you told him and the other boarders about this contest that you entered." Pulling back, the blond child remembered telling the others after he turned in the essay over the last couple of weeks. Arnold rubbed his eyes to stop the tears that he knew were coming. "Yeah. What about it?" He tried to seem happy, but the sadness of the slim chance of him winning returned.

But Harvey kneeled in front of him, an arm resting on one of his knees. "You see, Arnold, I had heard about this contest from other kids as well. So I was well aware of what he was talking about by then." This was not helping the boy at all. He knew that the man had the best intentions, but to hear that other kids probably wanted to win just as badly as he did….

"Although I don't believe that they told the students that they would be getting their answer through the mail system." Harvey smiled as Arnold's thoughts were racing. What? Arnold could not rub them anymore. If Harvey went the entire way over here just to tell him this…"What are you saying Harvey?"

Patting the boy's shoulder, he stood up knowing that Arnold was standing there in shock. He could hear as the zipper of Harvey's jacket was unzipped and his hand reached inside the coat pocket. Arnold could not breathe as his rough hand pulled out what looked to be a clipboard with a pen attached and a thick manila folder. Handing it down to him, he asked, "Are you Arnold Shortman?" Tears were freefalling. There was nothing he could do either except nod. Was this really happening? Harvey was grinning. If there was anyone who deserved this, it was Arnold. "Sign here please." Arnold did not hesitate to grab that pen and sign his name. It was scribbled, but as long as he signed it, it didn't matter. What did matter was what that folder held. The man pulled back the clipboard and used the other hand and laid it in Arnold's hands.

He was holding it. The folder was so thick too. There was no way that he couldn't not have won. He trembled as his fingers from earlier turned pink once again from all of the blood rushing into them. And lifting that little tab, he found the first of what looked to be about thirty papers! But it only took the first sentence on that first page to make all of the difference in his world.

"Congratulations! Arnold Shortman, you have won the Discoveries of the World Contest!"

And that was all Arnold needed to read. There was nothing more and nothing less. He won. He won the contest! The hurt, the worry, and defeat that he had felt had disappeared. All he could see in his mind were the faces of his mom and dad from the only photo he had of them. Suddenly his hands gripped the papers tighter, almost to the point that it could cause a few paper cuts if he accidentally ripped the folder.

And he had that strong feeling to hug someone. It always happened when he felt this excited over something that meant so much to him. Arnold was actually going to find his parents! He knew that things might get difficult, but any amount of time that he had in San Lorenzo that could be used in searching for his parents was worth it. He, he had to try.

And he couldn't help it. With the papers still in his hands, really in his hands as it was still hard to believe, he found himself holding Harvey in a death grip hug. This was one of his favorite moments. Even though it was not how he expected it to happen, especially who it was with, he was happier than he'd ever been in his whole life.

Who cared that it was freezing? Who cared that it was cloudy? He was hugging the childhood friend of his father and lifelong friend of his as well. But there was something different about this hug. It was missing something. Arnold couldn't figure out what it was though, but he was just too overwhelmed in a very good way. He couldn't stop smiling as the tears fell. Holding onto Harvey with his green eyes shut, he hiccupped, "Thank you so much Harvey! You, you have no idea how much this, this means to me!" His world went dark as Arnold felt Harvey hug him back. And in that reassuring voice, the man responded. "No one deserves this more than you Arnold. No one."

And for the first time in weeks, he believed what he heard. He wasn't selfish. He accepted the compliments that Sid, Gerald, Stinky, Harold, Rhonda, Nadine, Eugene, Lila, Phoebe, Helga, Mr. Huynh, Grandpa, Grandma, and now Harvey. He accepted their gratitude toward him. And that was the best support system that he could ever imagine. He didn't let go until long after a few minutes. There was only one thing on his mind as the reality set it.

"_This is it. I am going to San Lorenzo."_


	15. Principal Wartz

Oh, the beginning of a new week. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath of the lemon scented air. These were the moments that he loved when the long silent hallways were cleaned during class. Even if the walls were crumbling or the lockers were slightly dented from students bumping into each other, it was literally home to him. The lights that were newly installed last month were well worth it too. They were starting to flicker – that and there were parents that kept calling to tell him that his students with poor eyesight were having a hard time adjusting to the sudden lighting changes throughout the day.

But it wasn't just that he'd be going back to his job, no matter how difficult it was. Yes, there were shenanigans and pranks everywhere he went. He had to give at least one or two detentions a day on average. If only his students would behave. It wasn't too much to ask, not at all. He coughed as he made his way to his office. Green walls that went well with the school flag; hey he loved his office so much that he made one of his rooms at home a replica! Of course, he hadn't intended on that happening. He only did it because of the dispute that he had with Mr. Simmons a few months back. And it had ended a lot better than he expected it to. He had not only come to enjoy his job more and had a better friendship with his employee, but he also found out he was a good karaoke singer.

However, there was a chance that it could be one of the greatest days yet in his life. Last Saturday, Principal Wartz received a phone call regarding one of the students. It was from the CTA, or otherwise known as the Cultural Travel Association. As the principal, he had the responsibility that any sort of event or activity that came from outside sources had to be at its' best for the school; although he had to reason with the budget. Since the Social Studies department was receiving lower grades on average as the years went by, the opportunity showed itself to him on surprise.

About two months ago, he was admiring the prestigious awards that were throughout the same hallways that he was walking in. And as he was passing by the doors to the library, his eyes opened in surprise when he noticed that something was different. In all of his years of running P.S. 118, he never recognized what was even outside the doors hanging on the wall. Principal Wartz stepped back cautiously with an eyebrow raised as he looked at the plaque that hung. It was a paper, a short one, but it was obviously well written by Olga Pataki. Oh yes, she was a model student – someone to be revered.

How he sister Helga Pataki and she were related, he had no idea. A couple of weeks ago, he had informed Ms. Pataki about the sudden rush with her appointment with Dr. Bliss. And only few words could express the frustration he dealt with too when trying to reason with her.

"_Ms. Pataki." He was getting impatient. He needed to see her._

"_Hold it Principal Wartz; I'll be in a minute," he stared at her suspiciously. Could he trust her? What if she ran off? She was quite stubborn and tended to break the rules every once in a while. He could understand why she was one of the bullies of the 5__th__ grade class. She was the same way each school year. But, as he stared at her, she raised an arm to reassure him – although he did have some doubts._

_"I will. Just let me tell Phoebe something." His eyes opened slightly in surprise. Ms. Pataki was actually being calm when speaking to him? Being around Mr. Simmons must have gotten to him because now he could tell when students were joking or being serious. It helped him as a principal, because he could give fewer detentions. And thus, the school would have a better reputation. By the look she was giving him too, she was being sincere. But he had to keep his position in check, and simply shook his head. He didn't know what was going on between her and Ms. Heyerdahl. But he didn't have the time to think on such matters. _

_Walking back into his office, he stepped around his desk and sat in his reddish brown leather chair. Taking off his glasses, he set them aside as Helga came in. Pulling out the blue chair that sat across from him, she crossed one leg over the other as her arms folded._

"_So, Wartz, what did I do now? Scale the side of the school and covered it in glue so pigeons would get stuck?" She spoke sarcastically. He closed his eyes as his hands also folded on the table. This was not going well already. And he bit his tongue hard. He didn't need the superintendent coming in again. He needed to compromise with the students, not degrade them into thinking they were animals. Instead of choosing to act out, he spoke as rationally as he could. "Ms. Pataki, you are in no trouble. However, there is something I should tell you about." Although he had to be upfront with the students on the issues that they were dealing with, it was this sort of situation that he wanted to avoid. The young lady sitting in front of him was hard to deal with as a whole, even if her test scores from last year proved that she could become anything she wanted, like her sister could. _

_Helga shrugged her shoulders as her head looked lazily around the room. Turning her attention back to him, she lifted her gaze to meet his. And he could tell that she was probably going to argue – as usual. "What is it then? I haven't got all day. I do have to get to class you know." She did have a point. But it had to be done. There was no other time he could do it. He breathed before saying anything._

"_You see, Helga, I received a phone call from Dr. Bliss. And she informed me that she is going out of town for the next week. She is quite aware that you had an appointment, but now she wants to meet you right after school since there really is no other time until two weeks from now." All of a sudden, her legs both stood on the ground as she sat up with her mouth hung open. "Wh-wh-what?" Her hands untangled themselves and gripped the sides of the chair. She quickly replied, "No, no, no. I can't go today!"_

_That was just another excuse to getting out of it. Reaching for his glasses, he put them on as he opened the drawer for the school phonebook. "And why not Ms. Pataki?" he asked. Surely she didn't have any other plans except homework. There couldn't be anything else, unless she was going to spend time with those other children around the neighborhood. He looked down to the book as he flipped through the pages, searching for Mr. and Mrs. Pataki's phone number. Helga gulped. And Principal Wartz could see through her lies. She obviously had nothing planned. She didn't say anything. He continued. "Ah, yes. Since you don't have a good reason, I will have to call your parents to let them know that you are going to be home later than normal."_

_The student in front of him stood up and banged her fist on his desk. "No! Don't! I can go by myself and tell them why later!" The man looked up at her face. She was desperate; it seemed, to not have him call her parents. But he would not be deterred from doing so without some reasoning._

"_Now, why would you want that Ms. Pataki? I would think that it wouldn't be as big of a problem as you having to tell them. " He hadn't spoken to Mr. Pataki much since Olga was a student at P.S. 118. He was a good man; he always supported and understood his successful daughter. Same went to Mrs. Pataki. He never saw her as much, maybe once or twice, but enough to know that she was the same way. Sure Helga and Olga were in fact different people. But didn't she get along with them?_

_Unfortunately before he could think any further, Helga leaned back with a frown. But her anger was there as she spoke through clenched teeth. "My dad is at a very important business meeting and my mom is sick. Please," she faced down to the desk, "it really is best not to bother them."_

And she left. He didn't call Mr. and Mrs. Pataki. And nothing happened. He left it at that. Her parents didn't call to complain – which meant things were well. And it was also Olga's essay that inspired him to contact the CTA. The best way for students to have a better understanding of the world is if they were in the culture themselves. Finally, to know that one of his 5th graders, Arnold Shortman, had won the contest was good news.

Arnold was a decent student. He didn't fail his classes and he was very helpful. He was an all-around kind of person and had helped him on many occasions. He convinced him that the teachers' strike was pointless because the main focus was to teach the children, not the budget. He also wrote an honest school newspaper in comparison to Ms. Pataki's rumor-filled one.

Even so, it was a proud accomplishment to have one of P.S.118's students win this contest. And he didn't want to get his hopes up, but what if Arnold chose Mexico? Or Spain? Or San Lorenzo? Those would be some very interesting trips. Not that the others are less remarkable, but the Spanish cultures in the world amazed him. They were vibrant and filled with life. It became a part of him too. They allowed him to feel more at ease and relaxed, but with that excitement followed. But also, next to the school, it gave Principal Wartz a sense of family. He never was close to any of his relatives. He knew that the older he got, the stricter he became. His family seemed to accept it for a number of years as it was a part of his personality.

But one day when he was a senior in high school, he saw that one of the sophomores drawing on one of the lockers and immediately informed the principal. That student did get in trouble of course, but not without the repercussions that Principal Wartz was not affected by anymore. Apparently, that student was not drawing on the locker. Rather, he was using a glue stick as a sudden replacement for tape to attach a get well card to his older sister, who was also a senior named Elizabeth, who had a serious concussion. The most humiliating part for him at the time was that it ruined his reputation – again. He'd caught random students and former classmates in the past. The difference was that the student he turned in was actually innocent because he had already received permission to post the message on her locker as a gift.

So he never went on to doing some "senior events" like going to the prom or the last home games of the year. He never went to any plays or won any awards. At that time, life was very dull – all he was good at was getting others in trouble by doing the right thing. Yes, he excelled at school because he wanted to influence children in behaving better – therefore becoming better individuals. It was simple psychology to him; the younger one was to learning how to behave properly, the chances are that it would continue throughout life.

But even so, this incident not only ruined his reputation, but his younger brother's as well. They were inseparable despite them having been three years in age difference. They couldn't be torn apart. They played games, did homework together, and anything else that seemed like fun. However, when Principal Wartz's status fell, so did Michael's. All of a sudden he became resentful of him, claiming that it was because he was going to college.

But Jonathan knew that was not the reason why his brother was upset with him. At the time, if someone had a certain reputation at high school and had a younger sibling coming in – their reputation was determined by the older - and since his ended rather shortly, then started to get better only to end up at rock bottom, so did his. Thus Michael tried to do everything to prove himself while Principal Wartz was at college. Unfortunately, he went about doing drugs and alcohol and who knew what else until he died of a heart attack in his junior year. Everyone unintentionally told him, even at the funeral, that it was his fault too.

Principal Wartz then became as rational, and if not more strict, ever since. His brother's death did sadden him because they were so close, but he had to keep going. Regardless of what happened toward the end, Jonathan kept remembering that Michael wouldn't want him to stop his dream of being an educator. And he vowed that he would do his absolute best, even if it sacrificed him the other relationships that he had with his family. His brother also inspired him to listen to Latin music since he enjoyed it himself. And that music led him to exploring the cultures that surround it.

So he hoped that Arnold would chose something related to that culture although the chances were thirty percent. So he shouldn't expect it. For all he knew, the student could choose a country like France! Regardless, since he was the one who came up with the idea and as the principal, he would be leaving the country for this trip.

And if anything went wrong, well he didn't want to think about it just yet. Arnold had this school week to decide where he wanted to go. The only thing that concerned him was the other students. If they found out somehow that the boy had won, they would try to influence his decision. Regardless of Principal Wartz's goals in life, he was still working with elementary school children. They weren't as rational as they could be in their lives.

As the man continued to look at the plaque, he could read Olga's first few sentences.

"_If there is anything that I have learned in my life, it is that all life matters. And if we love it, in all its' forms, then the right thing will be done."_

He didn't get any farther though as he heard a cough from behind him. Jonathan's head jerked to the left as he turned to find the one student he was just thinking about – Arnold. Seeing the student now, Principal Wartz could see that he had grown up quite a bit in the past three years at P.S. 118. He could recall that Arnold wore a long blue shirt in the third grade, which then changed into the red plaid shirt and a greenish-blue sweater. And now here he was, in the same plaid shirt, but with a dark green t shirt underneath it. It suited him well as a student. At least he didn't have piercings or tattoos or something like that.

The boy was acting rather oddly too. He rubbed the back of his head as he swayed side to side. Jonathan could see the signs – he was nervous. And for some reason, even though he didn't want to believe it himself, he enjoyed the feeling of being taken seriously to the point that he would make a student nervous.

To cut to the point, he made the first move. "Why, hello there son. What brings you to see me? Shouldn't you be in class?" He questioned him. Arnold seemed to be out in the hallways all alone other than him. Not even Mr. Simmons was accompanying him. He probably had to stay behind with the class because of their behaviors. Fortunately, the student he was talking to answered him. "Well, yes, I know I'm out of class. But I did ask Mr. Simmons to come talk to you." At this point they were walking down the hallway, passing the sixth grade classrooms as they went. Arnold seemed to calm down a bit, but not entirely. He kept glancing side to side, even if it seemed that Principal Wartz wasn't noticing. He pulled out the key from his pants pocket, jingling here and there. The room he intended to continue this conversation was down on the left.

"Oh really? Well, hold on one second," his tongue clacked a bit as he opened the door for the boy. Believing that he was treating this student with respect, he went on. "Step into my office." Arnold still was unsure, but he smiled up at him. "Thanks." He went right to the blue chair that he sat at once before. Only this time he wasn't in trouble. He had tried to cover for three young boys a few months ago over a mooning incident, receiving a month's detention and almost ruined his record. But of course, that was all in the past. And now they could move forward from such an awful memory.

Closing the door behind him, Jonathan went to his comfortable chair behind his desk. He stared down at the boy, trying to think of what could be the problem. Although he had his suspicions, he knew that he shouldn't push it. He didn't mean any harm. He wanted to come see him. The fifth grader swung his legs as he looked down at the floor. His hands were gripping the seat. He had to be as understanding as he could. Otherwise, it could have not turned out right. "Now please tell me what is troubling you young man."

Arnold began, still not quite turning his head back up just yet. "Well, you see, it's about the travel contest." His voice was quiet, as if he was afraid of upsetting him. Principal Wartz raised an eyebrow. Shouldn't a student be happier that they won such an amazing contest? He almost sounded like he didn't want to win. But first, he still had to make him more welcomed. And seeing as it was Mr. Shortman here, it shouldn't have been too hard. He smiled a bit himself as he reached for his glasses that were left in his shirt pocket.

"Ah, yes, I received a phone call that confirmed that you won. Congratulations, Arnold." It was true. He did deserve the award. And it made him feel better as an educator. This contest was actually nationwide. It of course, by law, applied to all public elementary schools. Fortunately, a lot of schools chose not to do it out of a few concerns: the age of the students, the costs that parents would have to pay etc. But this was an opportunity more than anything else. Principal Wartz had to have the best representatives come into his school after all.

Arnold finally began to look up and his legs stopped swinging. His hands folded on his lap as he grinned."Thanks. I appreciate it." Now that the ice was broken, they could finally get to the root of the matter here."No, no. The pleasure is all mine. Now what seems to be the problem? I would think that any boy such as you would be rather happy about it." And once again, his face faltered. He continued to look at him as the boy took a minute to think out his thoughts.

He started out as nervous as he was when he came in. But he had built up his confidence as he went on. Jonathan could hear it in the way he spoke so adamantly about it."I am happy about it Principal Wartz. It's just that, I, it's hard to explain. But I got to do this now." One of the boy's hands came up to blow his face with air, sighing as he did so.

As the head of the school, he had to keep up with appearances. So he took a pencil and twisted it in front of his face with both hands as he stared down at Arnold. He didn't want to do it of course, but just in case if anyone should walk in…"Well just tell me then. If there is something that may affect the travel plans that we have to make, I would like to be aware of it now before it is too late." That could be the only thing on the student's mind. And the child in front of him nodded his head. Ah hah! "I understand. I do. But, this is a rather odd thing of me to ask. I hope you will understand too."

Ok, so he wanted his approval of something; probably to go to some crazy city and party the entire time while they were there. "Go ahead. All I want is your honesty." Yes, it would be nice to have a break, but it was still a cultural experience and school was still going to continue when they leave the country. And besides, the superintendent decided to run the place while they were gone. Just because it would give Arnold and his classmates time out of school, there was always time to get educated.

Luckily, he took Jonathan's advice."You see, I chose the country that I want to go to -" he started. Wait a minute – he already chose? That couldn't be possible. Arnold was not a person to rush into decisions. He normally thought things through before acting on them. There must have been one solution. Principal Wartz coughed to get his attention. And when it seemed that it worked, the boy's eyes widened and his mouth shut. He probably thought he had done something wrong. He had to act quickly.

"Sorry to interrupt you Arnold, but were you told by your classmates which country you have to choose? If that is the case, then I must investigate it." And that was true. According the provisions of the contract with the CTA, the winner must not be influenced by their peers. But fortunately, he was told otherwise as the other waved his hands out toward him. "What? No, they didn't. I already made up my mind where I wanted to go the day we were told about the contest." As he lowered both of them, Jonathan lowered the pencil in front of his face and lifted his glasses closer to his eyes."Well, alright then. Which country did you choose?" he asked calmly.

"I chose San Lorenzo sir." Arnold seemed to have bit his lip, unsure of what to make of it. Same could go for himself. He never expected such an outright answer before. He really wanted to go. There were no influences. That much he could tell. And it had been one of the countries that he wanted to go to as well. He could actually see it now – the music, the food, and the sense of belonging more than anything else. Principal Wartz smiled at him as he stood and went behind the student. "Well now, that is a fine place to go. But may I ask why?" He was a self assured boy and very intelligent beyond his years. There was the possibility that he needed a break from it all himself. And Jonathan couldn't blame him either. Arnold sounded confused as he patted his shoulder. "I, uh, chose to go to San Lorenzo for personal reasons. And I figured that you might want to know what they are before I got myself into any trouble."

He had to admit, Arnold was still impressive."Well that was very wise of you", he walked back and stood in front of his desk. But he could only do so much for him, "Unfortunately, you know I cannot do anything if you don't tell me." He kept leaning on his hands as the pressed against the wood.

The boy turned into someone else. He was staring directly at him in the face. And oddly enough, Principal Wartz didn't know what to make of it. "Ok, you see, I wanted to find answers from some local documents in San Lorenzo." He didn't turn his head or go back and deny what he said. This was unexpected. Unfortunately, he had to counteract against the boy. Normally he would've just said no. But Arnold wasn't like this at all. "Now, Arnold, what reason would you have to do that? We are going to explore the culture of that country, not interfering with documents that don't belong to us let alone the United States."

He watched as the student stood up rashly, causing himself to step back. Arnold moved the chair to the window, not at all stopping to stare at him. "I know that. But you see Principal Wartz, you know that I live with my grandparents right?" Well that seemed like a pointless question. He recalled the time when he called to let his grandparents know about the flood and having to stay overnight at the school. And his grandpa had starting rambling all sorts of nonsense so he just hung up the phone. "Yes, of course. But what does that have to do with anything?" He arched an eyebrow.

At least Arnold wasn't avoiding the situation and instead chose to answer. "My parents worked in San Lorenzo for a few years before I was born. And when they had me, they moved back here for my safety." His parents huh? Well, at least they were smart enough to help their son. If he was anything like them, then they must have been good people. He never met them, but they were right. He commented, "Well, San Lorenzo is dangerous with all of that wild life and jungles." That was very true. While the coastlines were full of the amazing culture it made itself out to be, it was the core of that land that nobody would dare to go near.

"Yes. Anyhow, my parents received work to help other people down there when I was too little to remember anything about them. They had to leave even though they didn't want to. But," He stopped and turned around once more. Arnold went and sat down with his head in his hands. Principal Wartz couldn't see his face, but he was sure that he was crying a few tears. How important was this to him?

Sighing to himself, knowing that this couldn't be ignored, he went and kneeled down in front of him."But what young man?" He didn't dare to put his hand on the boy's shoulder, since he wasn't used to these strong emotions. Though it seemed for the first time, Arnold was the one who needed the help. And he was the only one who could probably try to help him by talking to the CTA.

"They were never found." Arnold only whispered. And even though it was a shock to Principal Wartz, at the same time even though he hated to admit it, it wasn't a surprise. Mr. and Mrs. Shortman were never at any school event and he never saw them period. Otherwise, he looked back up at him with red eyes and tears. "That is why I need permission to see the local documents. Maybe someone saw them before they disappeared. I mean, I lived there for the first few months of my life. My parents knew people from all around the country. Please, Principal Wartz, this is as close as I can get to figuring out what happened to them!"

And he broke down in front of him. Arnold wouldn't look at him anymore as he continued to cry in his own world. This was probably the most serious and uncompromising situation he'd ever face in his life. He was used to getting students into trouble, not out of trouble. But wasn't that his job? He was supposed to help and compromise with his students, not to see them like this.

Now he put a hand on Arnold's shoulder, which was still racking with sobs. He hoped that he could hear him over his weeping. "Arnold. I want you to understand something. This is a very delicate situation and I don't want you leaving San Lorenzo without some fun put into it. I can't promise you this for right now, but I'll see what I can do. And if the association that sponsored the contest approves of it, then that will be enough to get what you need."

Arnold sniffled and rubbed his face. His eyes were still red, but at least his words helped calm the boy. Seeing him in this condition was still unbelievable – it didn't suit him. What truly let Principal Wartz know that he said was the right thing was that he genuinely smiled. His voice was still hoarse, but he managed to speak as best as he could. "Thank you Principal Wartz. This really means a lot to me."

They stood up and shook their hands. At least at the end they could be professional about it even though it was anything but. The man guided the student over to the door and graciously opened it for him. "Yes, well, I'm open to more compromise now. So you better get back to class young man." Arnold walked out, but surprisingly hugged him. He could feel his arms constrict him with arms that couldn't fully go around his waist. "I will. And thanks again." He kept that grin on his face as he walked back to class.

Jonathan continued to stare down the hallway as the boy went away. Shaking his head, he went back into the office and closed the door. The first thing he found himself staring at was the green and orange school flag. Suddenly, he knew he was imagining it, but he saw Michael's face in the window. He still looked the same as he did the last time they got along – brown shaggy hair that had long bangs swept over his face with a smirk in his eyes and grin. And for some odd reason, he felt compelled to touch the flag and decided to walk over to it. It was like his brother was the flag. It sounded crazy and unreasonable to him, but he had no other way to describe it. Reaching out and feeling the texture beneath his fingertips, he finally felt at home. The moment didn't last long, but he left it short because it was still out of his comfort zone and he had a phone call to make.

He didn't bother sitting down as he went to dial the number.

"Hello?"

"Yes. This is Principal Jonathan Wartz at P.S. 118 in Hillwood."

"Well you see one of my students, Arnold Shortman, won the essay contest that was sponsored by the association. And I need to speak to the person who is in charge of the contest."

"No, there's nothing wrong. I just need to make a compromising arrangement."


	16. Grandma

She was embracing the flow under her fingers as the rhythm vibrated down the pipes. The sound would of course squeak every now and then, but that was because she wasn't a professional at it yet. She needed to practice. It was only a few days before the big shindig for Arnold, and for a Happy Halloween. Still pressing down on the pipes, she smiled. It was as close as she could get to laugh hysterically. Her eyes were closed as she swayed from the kitchen, down the hall, and into the living room. So what if she was an old woman? She didn't need to see in order to get around the boarding house!

Plus, from what she could hear, Phil and Oskar were finishing up playing checkers. "Just you wait Oskar, one more-" Gertie's lips pursed and blew too harshly on the bagpipes, the shrieking sound causing her husband to jump. It even surprised her. She opened her eyes and removed the instrument from her mouth. Well, that was practice...

She settled it beside the entryway. The king's court table knocked over in front of that billy goat of a boarder making him fall over as well. The warlock, as Gertie called Phil since it was five days before Halloween, stumbled back and almost landed in her arms. Luckily, he caught himself before that could happen. She couldn't have a Halloween with a howling warlock – then he'd be a werewolf. And that was Ernie's costume."Ow, Grandpa you messed up the game. I want my money back!" Oskar shouted. He kept rubbing his head. And although Grandma acted like it was nothing new, because it was nothing new in the house, she did feel a little guilty. Maybe she should have seen where she was going….

"We didn't bet Oskar," Phil shook his head, "So there was no money to begin with. Now you, you get out of this room!" He pointed a finger in Gertie's direction, still not facing his wife. The other man jumped and shrieked as he ran like a herd of cattle right by her. But she wasn't bothered by it. More importantly, it was Phil that she was worried about. She could see that the warlock was not smiling, but it wasn't from the game. She had been married to him for decades and hadn't ever stopped loving him, not even when she was a sweet little girl playing stickball with him. Leaning against the wall, she wondered if he feeling alright. He hadn't told her to stop playing those "stupid bagpipes". Sure, she understood that she was the eccentric one in the family with all of the costumes. But it didn't stop her from being herself.

Walking over to Phil, she kneeled next to him as he was piling up the red and black checkers. He didn't say anything and refused to look at her. It hurt her to say that she knew why too. Arnold was leaving the day after Halloween with his classmates. They had to take the trip as soon as possible – it was all rather too fast even for her. They found Miles' journal on the 5th, Arnold was told that he won the contest on the 19th, and now it was the 26th – only six more days from now. Gertie laid a hand on her husband's shoulder in understanding, both of them stopped cleaning. They didn't move.

They didn't want Arnold to get disappointed either. Or worse, lost and hurt. Losing Miles and Stella was hard enough on all three of them. She watched her son grow up, and now his son. She could only imagine how Tex must be feeling about this – excited probably. The hardest part was what was to come. She wasn't as clueless as Phil, though, because Arnold was her grandson – he was a part of her. And she could see the hesitant look in his eyes when her husband told him that he couldn't take the journal with him to San Lorenzo.

And if there was a very serious situation – Arnold would go to the craziest lengths like herself to make things right or at least attempt. If anything, he probably planned on taking it. At first, Arnold held onto it until he found out that he won the contest. After that, it was underneath the warlock's watch. He just wanted to be careful of course, but she held confidence in her grandson. They did tell him that he acted more like an adult than a kid. And if there was anything that Grandma was against were the stereotypes involving age. She believed that it didn't matter how old a person was – as long as they had the mental skills to handle the situation well then they would be okay. This was why she wanted Arnold to take it with him.

Arnold was more than capable of dealing with what could happen. It was just instinct. He would have the help and support that he needed. He wouldn't be alone. Plus, apparently his principal got the permission needed to allow Arnold to look through local resources in case if he backed down from his plans.

Unfortunately, by the looks of it, she had to help her grandson. Phil would never tell Arnold where the journal was, but he could tell her. After all they were in the same situation. Giving the warlock a side hug around the shoulder, she mumbled softly. "It's going to be alright. He'll be fine." The man next to her seemed to come back out of his thoughts as he began to clean up the checkers. As much as she hated doing this to her husband, now was the best time to get the information that she needed out of him. His state of mind, while although a lot more normal than hers, was slack. She already brought up the topic, now it was time to brew some answers out of him.

Phil groaned as he pushed the table upright after setting aside the game pieces and the board. "Pookie, I know that we said that we understood why Arnold needs to do this, I just don't want him to." Standing up after him, she helped adjust what was left of the furniture across from her husband. It screeched across the floor. "Why ever not? I personally believe that Kimba will be -"

"Don't, just don't say it Gertie please." He held his hand out to her while the other one was clenched, his head looking down. She was going to retort, but that was before she saw a couple of tears fall onto the table. Stepping back, she looked him over with nothing to say. Any speech she had planned out had disappeared for the moment. She hadn't seen him react this way since about three months after their son and his wife left and they discovered that the plane was not found. And Arnold was only a little pip too. Of course she had cried as well, but she could only think of the best outcome for their grandson.

She had to because that was what Arnold was – an optimist. She had to act like him to understand him. Finally setting the table in place, the warlock ignored his witch and went to his chair where he read the journal to them. He was dragging his feet like the whole world was on top of his shoulders. It seemed rather silly to her. They had to bear with the boy's decision to go to San Lorenzo while he was the one that was actually there. Then something popped in her head. Smiling gently, Gertie walked over and kneeled by Phil once again. His fist was rested by his chin as he stared out into nothing but an empty room.

"He will be fine you know." Grandma repeatedly finished her thought. Honestly she couldn't believe that she was doing this. Acting crazy was one thing, doing something crazy to stand up against something was another. But choosing to do something simply because it was the right thing to do…

Well, she really was becoming Arnold.

Still he said nothing. And she couldn't tell if he had acknowledged her or not. That didn't stop her though. "Come on Phil, Arnold really will be fine. Look, you don't have to listen to me. But just let me say what I got to say. Think about what our grandson has done. After I played the piano with him once, he told me about how he tried to have a perfect kid's Saturday." At this the warlock was melting into her brew with that grin. She continued. "You encouraged him to explore that train station-"

"More like tricked him Pookie." He interrupted. Although he was still looking away from her it was better to have him say something rather than nothing at all. It was progress. "Remember when he caught Mickey Kaline's baseball?" She nodded. "Yeah, I do. Everyone wanted that ball too. They shouldn't have done that though!" Gertie reached up and rubbed his left shoulder."Yeah," he said, "but I remember when I took him to the stadium. He didn't leave for another hour from when we got there." Phil sighed. "I wonder what kind of stories that old goat told the boy too." Leaving it off at that, it was time for Grandma to take it up a notch.

"You know, for Arnold, it really isn't about hearing stories for him."At this, her husband turned in confusion to her as she let her hand go. "What do you mean? Arnold has heard thousands of stories! You aren't making any sense again Pookie!" Dropping his arm, it rested and clenched the chair. She shook her head calmly even though her husband's attitude was actually starting to scare her a bit. "Phil, Arnold is meant to create his own stories, not listen to them. Remember when we told him that he acts more of an adult than a child?"

He nodded. "Yes, but what does that have to do with any-" That did it! Grandma cupped his mouth tightly. He attempted to shout, but it was muffled by her impressive tactics. "This is just an outrage Phil! You love your grandson, who has done just about everything for everyone in the neighborhood, even saved it for all of our sakes!" She stared him down in a way that she never thought she could do to him, but she had to. "You and I both know this for a fact. And yet you won't let him help himself." Releasing her "prisoner", she finally concluded.

"As much as I know you are against it, Arnold needs that journal. If it can do anything to help him, then I am beside him one hundred percent. He's not alone on this either. He'll have the help of the others-"

"And maybe risk their lives." Phil replied. But that couldn't deter her in the least.

"For all we know he may find no use of it. It's all a matter of faith in the boy. You're treating him like his age – a child. Well, he's not a child when he has to come to face everyone's problems day to day. It wouldn't hurt for his friends to grow up a bit either." They both loved Arnold deeply, but they couldn't protect him forever. She gazed into her love's eyes. She rested a hand against his cheek. "I know that you want to do whatever you can to make Arnold happy Phil, believe me I do. But you are suffocating him like a zombie. It's not just him. All three of us need answers about what happened to our son and Stella and Arnold is the only one of us who stands a chance. Would you do anything to find our Miles?"

Hesitantly, she let go of his face and stepped back rubbing her arm of a small burn from making breakfast yesterday. Asking that question was pointless to her, since she already knew his answer. Phil had been in the military, which although they were not in a relationship at the time, it still frightened her to death that he would die in the war. And in a way, that same fear was creeping like a spider in head for Kimba. But she was a former cop, and Miles and Stella traveled the greatest lengths in foreign countries. But maybe Arnold could out beat all of their experiences. Adventure was in the family's blood. The warlock hunched over like the grouch he was. "Yes of course I would." She sighed in relief that he said that. With her hands on her hips, she leaned her head forward as her feet went back and forth on her heels."Well, Arnold wants to do the same for his mother and his father."

He reached out to her with his hand. "But-" And the thing is, she wanted to be on his side of the problem. They'd been through so much together. But this wasn't the way to solve it. If there was anything that she learned from being married to this warlock was that he can become the childish one. She smiled, taking a while to think. She could tell that Phil thought that she was finally agreeing with him as he moved his hand and smiled back. Hahahahaha. As if. Now she had to butter him up, albeit calmly. She stopped moving back and forth and folded her arms, but her demeanor never changed. This was the final plunge she was going to take. And it was for that little boy…the little Kimba that was her little Tex's son.

"Phil please. This may be the best birthday present we could give him – what you could give him." Considering the few presents they had given to Arnold for his birthday since he didn't like to celebrate it, she had him hook, line and sinker. Now all she had to do was toss him over her shoulder and take him home. Of course she had a tear fall down her face as she said this. It truly was the best thing that they could give him. Even getting Arnold a new stereo system could never beat the gift of having his parents back.

Gertie could see that he was shocked by what she said, but he seemed to be considering it like a fish deciding to take the bite. It was strange that both were silent, but so was the entire house. So far, none of the others had decided to butt in. Of course it was a brief thought that crossed her mind. Phil closed his eyes, obviously still wasn't to agree with her. She had never felt so distant from him, not even while he was in the unknowns of battle. Pookie took her stand on how she felt. But it was as if her opinion for once sincerely had meant nothing to her husband. There was sadness in her heart for all three men in her life, almost to the point of grief.

So, she walked toward him and sat on an armrest. Her face was numb and cold from these raging emotions, and she could feel herself losing breath. Then, as the only love of her whole life lifted his gaze and turned over to face her, he reached out one of his fingers and brushed her cheek. It was so sweet of him to do that. That was the Phil she remembered. He wasn't some crazy nut job. That was her. Sometimes she wondered how she found such an amazing man, let alone one that could accept her for who she was. And then, he nodded. "He is responsible enough. He already has that backup plan to look through the local records. Either way he will come back with answers. We have to let him find those for himself. We love him, so as much as I hate to say it, we have to let him go. He deserves it more than any kid I believe we know."

"Really Grandpa?"


	17. Harold

Of all of the times he had to be hungry, why now? Normally his stomach wouldn't growl when he played sports with his friends or exercising to keep his weight down. Oh, and there was that time when Stoop Kid chased him down the block when he made fun of him after he got back from a trip to his uncle and aunt out in Michigan. Hey, how was he supposed to know? He left shortly after he and the others made fun of the guy for being afraid to leave his stoop in the first place. Then again he did have some sort of berry ice cream before he walked by.

Anyway, it obviously wasn't the right time to eat. He was sweating a bit even though he didn't have to. But boy, Sid and Stinky sure could get on his nerves. The three of them made a good trio most of the time. They got along well enough that they all would get in trouble together just so they could stick by one another. Of course though there were times where he felt left out like the time they wouldn't let him play with them or the time they made fun of his weight. But some good came out of those he guessed. He wouldn't have met the kitten Cupcake who belonged to that mean old lady or realized that he didn't need the approval of others to like him. Nope. He was just Harold – a kid who liked taking on challenges. Of course at that time, it was a perfect example.

"Come on Harold! Are you afraid you'll fall?" yelled Sid. Everyone had said goodbye to their families less than an hour ago at the airport entrance. And although he hated to admit it to himself, it was still hard to breathe from his mom's hugs and her cries about missing him and blah blah blah. His dad tried to calm her down, but she yelled back at him. Harold knew he was going to miss his mommy while he was in San Lorenzo. Even if she embarrassed him sometimes, he still loved her.

"Yeah Harold, are you some sort of chicken?" Stinky said. Oh, chicken. Tender, warm, grilled…wait a minute! He stopped thinking about food for the moment as he looked at his friends. They smirked at him, wondering if the race was on or not. Everyone was on the moving sidewalks in the airport now, after dealing with the annoying security guards. And of course, he and those two were in the back of the group because they couldn't help but stop and stare at the screens of random football games. Fall was fall, and now even with Halloween being over yesterday, the sport was shown everywhere – he could tell that there were a lot of replays of his favorite games.

He tightly gripped on his heavy blue suitcase. "No I'm not! You guys are on!" Somehow they managed to squeeze side by side together on the moving floor. Sid had a smaller suitcase than Harold did, and it was white to match his beetle boats. Stinky had a long brown backpack over his shoulders. But he wasn't worried. Chances were that between the two of his friends, they probably packed more stuff than he did. The good thing about having his mom was that she forced him to pack only the essentials for the trip.

Glancing at each other, Harold took his role. "One, two," and he knew that his other classmates would be mad at him later for doing this, "three!" They were definitely running down the walkway, bumping into the occasional grouchy person whether that was their fault or not if those people were already upset enough. But it was hard to tell who they had run into after a minute or so because they knew that they had ran in front of their other friends, causing everyone to bump into the sides.

He guessed Helga must have been standing right in the middle because he pushed her out of the way first since he was in the lead. He could hear her stumble a bit and Phoebe asking her if she was alright. He smirked to himself. He was going to win alright even if it knocked him out before they got on the plane. "Hey you morons! What's with you guys? We're in an airport so stop running unless it's an emergency! " Helga shouted, "And it's not! Crimeny!" He couldn't see her since he was looking ahead, but he could still hear Olga trying to tell Helga off. Served her right for being so mean all of the time."Now, baby sister, don't say those little nasty things to your friends silly."

Harold couldn't hear the rest of the conversation after that, but he didn't care. It wasn't his business anyways. Next thing he knew Stinky had gotten the lead because he got distracted by what happened back there. He was breathing heavy too. Actually, it was probably the longest moving sidewalk in the world because it didn't seem to end. He still kept bumping into people, even Eugene and Sheena. Well, mainly it was Eugene. But bad stuff like that always happened to him. Hah! He even had Sheena as his nurse basically since the beginning of last year of school. But he still had to win no matter what the cost was.

Next, he could tell that Curly must have been preaching about something random, possibly on how he had plans to overthrow Principal Wartz again when they got back from this trip, because he held his fist up in the air as he posed and laughed manically. He was weird. Most of the time Harold just wanted to avoid him, but in this case he couldn't help it. He continued running after Stinky while Sid was still luckily behind him. Pushing Curly aside, he managed to get the boy to bump into Rhonda. Oh man, this was too good to be true! "Well, well, well my darling. It seems that fate has plans for us to be joined together for all eternity. Does it not?" Harold could only imagine what Curly was doing. He probably was leaning on the girl who as always was disgusted by his tries. And she had no other way to go too. "Ewww, get off of me you piece of filth! Principal Wartz!"

Oh man, he forgot about the adults.

He, Sid, and Stinky all were running close together at this point. But they didn't realize how close they were until they ran into a couple of people and landed on the walk. They all had hit their heads, and Harold just wished that he would black out because he knew who they were. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that because Mr. Simmons and Principal Wartz were already scolding them. "You three! How dare you do this in a public airport! You could have seriously injured somebody! Now what in the world-" He was cut off by their teacher who thankfully helped them up. His head still ached, but it would probably be better soon, after he had something to eat of course.

Mr. Simmons dusted off their shoulders as they gathered their things. He looked at the other man, "Principal Wartz, calm down," he turned with disappointment which suddenly made Harold feel guilty. And his friends looked guilty too. "What I believe he is trying to ask is why did you do that? He does have a point you know. You ran into your friends over some race?" They had to admit that was true. If not, it would come close to the mooning incident they pulled before where they tried their best not to get caught. Of course it did almost ruin Arnold's record…So they nodded, but didn't say anything. Their teacher sighed, as they finally came off of the moving sidewalk.

Harold felt a little dizzy from the fact that he was standing fully still again. But Sid and Stinky felt the same way too because they kept wobbling side to side. "Well, obviously coming from me, I'm not surprised that you would do that. And since we are going on this trip, it's more reasonable to say that you are pretty excited to be leaving. Just," he stared at the three of them, "don't do this sort of thing when we get down there. We are going into a new culture and they don't know our ways of life. You might scare them." He hadn't thought about that. But they weren't even on the plane yet! So why should it matter?

Suddenly, Harold raised his brow as he saw that Sid shot up his hand like they were in class. He rolled his eyes. This had better be good. Otherwise he'd have to pound him in the next restroom if he said something stupid. Mr. Simmons stepped back, but smiled. What? They hadn't even said that they were sorry yet and already he forgave them? Man, he was a pushover! "Um, Mr. Simmons, how much longer are we from getting to the plane?" Wow. That was the question? How pathetic it seemed to him. It was only…uhh….

They started to follow their classmates, Olga, and Principal Wartz down the airport. His teacher held on to his two brown suitcases as the wheels rolled. "Well Sid, we actually are here already," looking at his ticket and back up, "Gate C6. Paraíso Costa, San Lorenzo." It was down on the right, and his classmates were messing around on the seats, looking out the windows, or just talking in general. Apparently his friends must have run over to others because Harold found himself being the only one next to the teacher. Oh man….now he would be called teacher's pet. He looked at the planes on both sides of theirs, but they were a lot bigger. Glancing up at his teacher, Harold had to ask. "Um, Mr. Simmons," he felt stupid for asking this. Harold frowned. The person beside him looked down to him, still smiling. It was creepy how he kept doing that all of the time.

"Yes Harold?" They had reached the edge of their gate and set their bags down. Man that suitcase was heavy and the chair was uncomfortable. No wonder why most of his friends decided to stand up. The boy faced the window, still puzzled by what he had to ask. He turned back to Mr. Simmons, who pulled out a Persons Magazine. "Why is our plane a lot smaller than the other ones?"

His teacher gestured to the window on the left. "Well, you see Harold, our plane has less people going on it. Mainly because it is actually for us since Arnold won the contest. The organization arranged it for us since the other airport is about three hours out of the way and they didn't want to bother us by having your parents drive all of the way out there and all of the way back. So they arranged it to take off here." That made sense. But why would Arnold choose a stupid country like San Lorenzo? He never heard about the country before. He could have picked someplace else that was cooler. Like China! Yes…oh Chinese food…sweet and sour…wait a minute.

Harold sat up and looked straight ahead. Even with all of those annoying people around, he could definitely tell who it was over there. He had to admit, the sunlight did help too. She wasn't facing him, but he recognized her parents. He only met them a couple of times at her house when she helped him learn new techniques for the arm wrestling tournament, but it was definitely Patty!

He didn't bother to tell Mr. Simmons where he was going – he was too absorbed with reading about some random famous person who probably got arrested. He shrugged and stood up and went over to her. He looked behind his shoulder, hoping that Sid and Stinky wouldn't notice him. They always made fun of him when it came to Patty. But of course he hadn't seen her for a long time. Now that she was in the seventh grade, she went to Hillwood Junior High. And that was pretty much across town. So if the guys bothered him about it he'd sock them in their faces.

Getting around the occasional person who had been waiting to board at C5 to someplace in California, Patty and her parents were at C4. He tugged his shirt, even though he knew it was going to show his stomach not matter what. He wanted to so her how strong he had gotten since he left, not how fat he was. Turning to his left, she and Mr. and Mrs. Smith were sitting next to each other. Her dad was reading the newspaper while she and her mom were knitting. Wow, he didn't know that she did that.

He felt nervous. He hadn't seen her in a long time. Would she still like him? What would he say to her? Shuffling his feet, he stood a few feet away from them. "Hey Patty." That was all he said and she looked up. She set aside her stuff and she smiled. That was good. She didn't forget him. "Hey Harold. Mom, Dad," she nudged them in the side, making him laugh, "Harold's here." They twitched too - which made it all the more fun.

Also, it finally dawned that unlike him Patty looked different. She looked nice. Her hair was still the same, but without the blue bow. Oh and she still had her skirt and shoes, but she had a light blue T-shirt and a gold pin on it. Harold smiled – she won that from the wrestling tournament. And of course she deserved it. She was the best.

Well her dad set down the newspaper and her mom put away the rest of their knitting stuff too. Mr. Smith held out his hand. "Hey Harold, how have you been? It's been awhile. How's school?" Patty nodded when she stood up and shook his shoulder. And it was great just seeing her again for Harold. But for some reason, his muscles tightened around where she touched him. He didn't know what to make of it either. All he knew was that it didn't hurt. It actually felt nice.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you," she started rubbing her arm. Was she nervous too? "So are you flying out like we are?" Harold nodded. "Yeah, actually all of us are." He pointed his hand over to where everyone else was, doing different things that he still could care less about. When he lowered his hand, he continued, "You see Arnold won this contest so now the whole class is flying to San Lorenzo on some sort of class trip." The boy felt proud of himself too. Patty probably had never left the country before. He put both of his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. Patty laughed, making Harold feel even better that he made her feel happier. "That's cool. I hope you guys have a good time." Suddenly the sunlight came through the windows a lot brighter, and she actually looked even nicer. Wow, that was strange to admit.

But it was true. "Thanks Patty. So," he turned to her parents, "where are you guys going to?" It still seemed funny how they ran into each other at the airport basically at the same time. Mrs. Smith smiled, even though she was the only one sitting. "Well, we're heading off to see my sister. She had a little baby girl and we wanted to congratulate her." Mr. Smith continued, "Yes. But our flight is delayed for another hour so we are just waiting for now." Harold nodded, but he was still confused about something. Looking over to the monitor for Gate C4, he asked, "Well, um, Phoenix is a long way from here..Um I think?" He hated to admit that he blushed from embarrassment. He still didn't do that well in Geography class. Lucky for him Patty saved his butt by nodding. "Yeah, it's a couple of hours away. Although I'm sure that yours will be longer. Since you are flying straight there it will probably stop a couple of times because that's about sixty hours or a couple of days for you." She frowned a bit, but he could tell that she was about to laugh at any second.

But what she said caused his headache from earlier to come back and he brought his hands to his head. He shut his eyes. "Oh, man! Why does this-" Then the intercom came on, shaking him, Patty, and her parents. "Flight number 6934 to Paraíso Costa, San Lorenzo is now boarding." Harold's eyes then shot open. Since he had no time left to talk, he did the only thing he could do until the next time he saw Patty. He hugged her, thankful that she hugged back.

"I'm so sorry Patty," he didn't want to let go of her. Besides Stinky and Sid, Patty was the only other one that understood him. Of course he knew that she wouldn't be there much longer either. But he had to go. "I didn't think that we would have to leave so soon." He really did feel bad. And he stopped smiling. When Patty pulled away from him, it seemed to hurt more.

"That's ok Harold," he could tell that she was the one who was trying to cheer him up, "When we both get back here, do you want to go to the boardwalk and go for another round of arm wrestling?" she asked. Stepping back, he blushed again. Why was he feeling like this? Especially in front of her parents? Well, at least they weren't overreacting like his mom would. He already had enough of that. But what she offered to him seemed good enough to make up for it. Harold nodded. "Yeah Patty, that sounds great." He backed away. "Well, um, I'll see you later! And it was nice seeing you Mr. and Mrs. Smith!"

Woah, where did that come from?

All three of them sat down in their seats and waved to Harold as he went back to the others. This time he actually made sure that he didn't run into random people. After all, there were old people and kids younger than he was. He walked very fast too, but at least he didn't run. The weird thing was that by the time he got there, no one had boarded yet. Slowing down, Harold could hear the shouts of his friends as they gathered around Mr. Simmons and Principal Wartz in groups.

"Sheena, here you go. Here's your ticket," Mr. Simmons told her. Looking down, and then looking up around the place he asked, "Has anyone seen Harold? Anyone?" Oh Madame Fortress Mommy, he was panicking. Harold rolled his eyes as he pushed Lorenzo and Nadine out of his way. He held out his hand. "Sorry about that Mr. Simmons," he shut his eyes as he heard some of the others gasp. Were they that surprised that he apologized to a teacher? When he opened his eyes again, he finished. "I saw an old friend of mine and I wanted to talk to them." He smiled at the thought. He was going to miss her. Well, it was good that Mr. Simmons believed him. Otherwise he might have had to stay in Hillwood – away from his friends and probably doing chores for his mommy. "Well, Harold, thanks for telling me. At least you're here so here's your ticket." He handed him the piece of paper and Harold shrugged, trying to play cool when he knew he was really excited. He was leaving this crazy country! Maybe San Lorenzo wouldn't be so bad…

He went around Gerald and Arnold, who were talking to each other of course. They always did. Even though Harold went for his blue suitcase, he did see that Arnold was practically on his toes. He must have been really excited like he was or something. Then again Arnold did choose to go to the country. He must like the food there. He couldn't think of anything else.

Once he had his bag, he could hear Sid and Stinky talking a few feet away. He turned and saw them snickering at him. What did he do? His eyebrow furrowed as he went over to them. Although it was getting louder now that they were about to get on the plane, he could still manage to listen in on what they were saying. He was right behind them too. In fact, they were in front of everyone else to board. The airport lady stood by the table as the ticket checker. As his friends got theirs checked, he heard Sid laugh. "Yeah, poor Harold. He probably likes Patty so much that he made a date with her when we get back! Hah!" What? Harold was getting angrier by each word that idiot said. He and Patty didn't make a date! They just made plans to arm wrestle and go to the boardwalk. That's all. What were they thinking?

After he had his ticket checked by the woman taking care of it, saying the standard "Enjoy your flight." and "Thank you", Harold ran with his stuff down the long hallway. "Hey you guys!" Deciding not to tell them what he heard, because he honestly didn't want them telling him that he can't be friends with a girl like Patty again, he thought that he would get them back in another way.

Stinky turned around after grabbing Sid's shoulder to get his attention too. "Hey Harold!" he snickered, "What do you want?" But that didn't bother him. Gripping onto his bag he asked, "We didn't finish our race back there and Wartz and Simmons are still handing out tickets. They won't see us." Sid and Stinky looked at each other worried as Harold smirked. The guilt ate up at them at first, but then they would follow his orders. "Well, what if we get caught?" Stinky asked. Harold shook his head, pretending to be annoyed. But just in case he turned his head to see that Lila and Nadine were walking down with Rhonda. Oh man…

He shoved them a bit to face the end that took them to the plane. "Oh come on you guys. We won't get caught. After all it's only going to be a minute race. And we can even jump over that space you know – the one in between this walkway and the plane. Whoever gets there first and makes the biggest jump is the winner. Ok?" He patted their shoulders with a grin. He couldn't see their faces because he was looking down the hall, but he could tell that they nodded.

"Yeah, you're right Harold. This is going to be great." Sid said lowly. Harold nodded next. Letting go of them, they kneeled on the ground into their starting position. Lowering their heads he calmly began, "Once again, one, two, three, go!" And they were off. Harold knew he had the lead this time again. He had this whole thing planned out. He had run so much in the past, a lot of the time when he was scared of something or someone, so he used that as motivation. Because of that he had to say one thing. Not shout it with Mr. Simmons and Principal Wartz behind them, but say it. "Ahhhh! Mommy!"

And he felt like he was flying. Oh yeah, he felt stupid, he was going to fly pretty soon. Oh well, he was winning so what was the matter? He could see the end and was almost at the turn to the left. Then the worst thing happened to him – he tripped. And Harold knew where he went wrong the moment he hit the ground. He didn't tie his shoes that morning because his mother was in such a rush to get to the airport that it never occurred to him. Oh man he was so stupid! "Hah! See you on the plane Harold!" Sid shouted, obviously ahead of him. Ughhh…He knew he scraped his knee since it happened a lot before. It felt sore, causing the rest of his race to end up a lot slower than he wanted. His right foot dragged the floor. Up ahead, Harold could see Stinky made his big jump over to the plane. With no Sid there, he must have won the race. That idiot…

Harold went toward the plane but stopped. Looking down at the floor and the gap to the plane, he smiled. He may have lost the race with Sid and Stinky but that didn't mean that he couldn't jump it. Backing up about three feet, he ran two steps and made his leap over to the plane. And it turned out successful – well for the most part anyway. He made the jump without falling again, but he hit the other side of the entrance. "Ouch." He hit his nosey. Now it was becoming red. He was leaning against the wall, and hearing his friends laugh at him, when he heard something that crinkled when it landed on his hat. Harold raised his brow and used his left hand to grab what was there. The immediate crunch that followed made the boy smile again – oh sweet potato chips. Alright!

Keeping it in his hand, he ran into the airplane. There were three blue seats on each side with every row. He was surprised. The seats looked a lot bigger than he figured. When he went to Michigan, the seats were a lot smaller and the arms hit him in his stomach. This, this was cool. But where was he supposed to sit? He scratched his head all confused. Then he felt something scratch it. "Huh?" Harold looked down. His ticket! That's right, he forgot all about it with the race. Lifting it up to his eyes, it said "Seat: 6F". Ok, so he was in the sixth row on the left side.

"Hey Harold! Over here!" Sid shot a paper airplane toward him. Of course Sid did that all of the time in class, so it was nothing new to him. Rolling his eyes, he frowned as the pathetic toy landed two seats in front of him. Still carrying his suitcase, he went down the tight aisle to his seat. It was a kind of sad thing for Harold because even though he was happy with his weight, he was still too big to sit by the window. He never got to. But he accepted it. At least he had some chips.

Apparently Sid and Stinky were in the same row as him. Sid got the window seat and Stinky got the middle, which meant he would have to sit on the aisle seat. Oh well, more leg room for him. When he reached his friends, Stinky stepped out. "Here, let me help Harold. I didn't think that you and Sid could reach the shelves up above us for our stuff, so I thought I could help. Do you mind?" He turned and unlocked the compartment above them. Finally, at least Stinky was nice enough. Harold nodded as he handed him the luggage. "Thanks Stinky."

He nodded too. "You're welcome Harold. We could talk until this here plane takes off because I think Sid is getting carried away with them paper airplanes." His friend took his seat and Harold sat next to him. Wow, the seats were bigger. That was great. He pulled out his chips and opened the bag. Looking at them, they were obviously Cool Ranch flavored. Ohhh…He took a bite. Now his headache was gone. And Sid did seem a little caught up with whatever he was doing. And Stinky seemed to have a Yahoo Soda. He must have found one when he came on the plane too. He seemed thirsty a lot. He mainly drank lemonade, milk, or Yahoo. Harold had to admit he was impressed. Stinky never took anything without permission unless he was following his orders. He knew there was a reason why he liked Stinky.

"Sure I guess. So," he ate a chip, "You ever heard of San Lorenzo Stinky?" he asked. He could see Rhonda coming up on the plane with Brainy behind her. Finally, everyone was getting on! When would they get out of there? He was ready to leave! Well for the most part, but he wasn't going to say that of course. Stinky shook his head. "No, although Arnold sure must have," he leaned forward, "He seemed rather excited I think about winning this here contest. I don't think I had ever seen him so happy before either." Harold agreed. Arnold was a good friend. And yeah he made threats to Arnold and made fun of him sometimes, but it was all for fun. He was pretty sure that most of the others hadn't heard of the country before, so where had his classmate heard of it? Maybe it was Geography class. But he must know something about it. Ughhh, it was too much thinking for him. He nodded. "Yeah, maybe it's because of the food." Stinky laughed. What did he say? "Oh, Harold. That would be you're reason if you won the contest. But I think," and he pointed to himself with his left hand, "it's something else." Harold didn't get it. What was there -

"Ahhh! Get away from me Curly! Now!" He and Stinky looked in front of them. Rhonda was right in front of Stinky's seat even though he could only see the back of her head. And Curly was in front of her, leaning over the back of his seat giving her air kisses. Harold wrinkled his nose – disgusting. Who'd want to kiss a girl? "Come on Rhonda, why won't you sit with me? You'd have a better time if I sat there with you."She backed even further in her seat. "Because you piece of filth, I reserved this row all to myself courtesy of my parents. So I'm in charge of this row and I say hands off! And don't you even try kissing me, hugging me, touching me, talking to me, and especially kissing me!" Harold ignored the rest after that. It was just like her to do something stupid like that. Curly would never stop.

All he could hear next was annoying giggles. Oh man, who was it now? He tapped Stinky on his arm and they turned down the plane. They could only make out Olga, who was in the row across from Curly. He could hear Stinky mutter. "Wow, who knew Helga's sister could look there mighty pretty." Eh, to Harold she was okay. The laughing was a problem; but he could deal with it, especially since she embarrassed Helga with that bed-wetter story last year. Hah! Another way to get back at Helga – by humiliating her.

Harold reached down and expected to take another handful of chips, only to realize that he already ate them all without knowing it. And he was still hungry. That sucked. He frowned. He turned back to Stinky, but he was looking at something else. He turned around only to see Sheena running by with Eugene in her arms flying him in the air. "Wow Sheena this is so much fun! Keep it going! This is sure to help with getting me used to the flight's turbulence so I don't get sick! Thanks ag- Woah!" He crash landed in front of Mr. Simmons who was in the second row on Harold's side."Ouch," he smiled as he rubbed his head when he was on the floor, "I'm okay." Sheena immediately sat next to him as well as their teacher. "Oh my Eugene! Are you sure?" she asked. Eugene nodded. "Yeah actually I'm really fine-"

The speaker came on."We are sorry to report a small technical difficult with the plane. Rest assured none of you will have to leave. But we will have a short delay." Harold, along with everyone else groaned. He mumbled, "Madame Fortress Mommy." This sucked. Principal Wartz sat in the second row too, only across from Mr. Simmons. But he didn't bother to stand up. He looked tired with that eye patch covering his eyes. "Will all of you be quiet? They are fixing it right now so-"

"In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy listening to the radio I had set up. Enjoy and thank you for choosing our flight. We hope to arrive to Paraíso Costa as soon as possible."

"_One, two. One, two, three, four!"_

Then the music came on. And it was actually one of Harold's favorite songs too. It was cool. He listened to it with his dad all of the time. He just leaned back and watched everyone's reactions to it. He should have seen it coming too.

Eugene had stood up in the front and everyone else just sat down, knowing that they were going to get a show. He started doing some pretty good air guitar actually and lip-syncing this time.

"_Some lovers just rely on their hearts  
The core cold remains of what began with a passionate start"_

Eugene stepped in front of Wartz leaning in closely. Of course, he wanted everyone to join in.

_"And they may not want it to end  
But it will, it's just a question of when  
I've lived long enough to have learned  
The closer you get to the fire the more you get burned" _

He poked their principal. It must have been the music because normally he would not allow someone to do that. Then he stepped aside and used his hand as a microphone.

"_But that won't happen to us  
'Cause it's always been a matter of trust"_

He did the air guitar all of the way over to Olga and Helga.

_"I know you're an emotional girl  
It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world"_

He kept leaning in between the two of them.

_"I can't offer you proof  
But you're gonna face a moment of truth  
It's hard when you're always afraid"_

Harold smirked when he saw Helga pushing his face out of hers because he was really coming too close. It was confusing though. Helga actually seemed scared before she did that. It was like the day he laughed at her and Brainy in art class.

_"You just recover when another belief is betrayed  
So break my heart if you must"_

Eugene walked away still looking at them, pressing his hand against his chest as if he had a little bitty broken heart. Good acting.

_"It's a matter of trust"_

He turnedand walked behind Brainy's row. At this point everyone was getting caught up, even him, in Eugene's performance.

"_You can't go the distance  
With too much resistance  
I know you have doubts  
But for God's sake don't shut me out"_

He stepped on top of one of the seats like some sort of rock star. Actually, it was really cool. He kept pointing to everyone. Some had to turn in their seats to see what he was doing. But Harold had the best seat since he was basically right next to him. He could feel Stinky shake his shoulder with excitement as Sid tossed a paper airplane that missed Eugene by an inch! That never happened before!

_"This time you've got nothing to lose  
You can take it, you can leave it, whatever you choose  
I won't hold back anything  
And I'll walk away a fool or a king"_

He got back on the ground and tried to pop the collar of his shirt.

_"Some lovers love is just rely on their minds  
It's make believe until it's only a matter of time  
And some might have learned to adjust  
But then it never was a matter of trust"_

He did another backwards air guitar down the aisle to where he started from. He was doing that really hard and some of his classmates started tapping to it or shaking their fists for the fun of it.

Then he leaned on Curly's shoulder and gestured to Rhonda. Oh boy.

"_I'm sure you're aware love,  
We've both had our share of believing too long  
When the whole situation was wrong"_

Eugene stepped away and did the backward walk again with the spread out his arms and stopped by Gerald's row. Pulling himself left to right, it was like he was in the middle of a tug-of-war game or something.

"_Some lovers love is just rely on their souls  
A constant battle for the ultimate state of control"_

He started pointing at everyone again and shrugged his shoulders.

_"After you've heard lie upon lie  
There can hardly be a question of why"_

He went over to the seat across from Gerald's row and stood up on the seat. He did a bunch of dramatic poses and would reach out between him and everyone else. Harold knew the song was coming to a close, but it was a great thing to watch.

Everyone else could also tell it was ending because they already starting clapping! Even Mr. Simmons and Principal Wartz were doing it too! Harold joined in of course. Or else he would be an idiot.

_"Some lovers just rely on their hearts  
The core cold remains of what began with a passionate start  
But that can't happen to us  
'Cause it's always been a matter of trust"_

He did his last air guitar.

And they all cheered.

_"It's a matter of trust  
It's always been a matter of trust  
It's a matter of trust"_

"Ladies and Gentleman, we are now ready to lift off. So if you could buckle yourselves up we will be ready to go to Paraíso Costa, San Lorenzo. We hope you enjoy your flight."

Everyone cheered at the news.

Finally! Bye American food and Hello..um..What kind of nickname does the food at San Lorenzo have again?

Thank you guys for reading this! The song is A Matter Of Trust by Billy Joel. And the inspiration for the arrangement of the students/teachers on the plane was inspired by the picture "To San Lorenzo We Go" by Sofy-Senpai on Deviantart.

Therefore, I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE MUSIC, THE ARTWORK THAT INSPIRED THIS CHAPTER, OR THE CHARACTERS/SHOW (THEY BELONG TO NICKELODEON AND CRAIG BARTLETT)


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